The Newbie
by InsaneOnTheInside
Summary: Lexi Smith has gratefully transferred from the San Diego crime lab to the Las Vegas one. But after a hostage situation gone wrong just a few days into her new job, she finds herself falling for her goofy co-worker, Greg Sanders, and he's falling for her too. Ugh, I suck at summaries. Set in season 12, though no crimes or events match up with the season sorry! Please R&R! Greg/OC
1. Welcome To Vegas

**Disclaimer: Don't own CSI.**

I was happy to be in Vegas.

I mean, can you tell me on person who's come to Vegas and isn't happy? Well, besides people who have lost all of their savings on one crazy night of gambling. Those people are probably really pissed most of the time, as any sane person would be.

My transfer from the San Diego crime lab to the Las Vegas one was a huge move for me. I'd had to make prior arrangements months ahead of time, and hadn't even had to fly in for an interview. San Diego wanted me gone, and would transfer me to any of my choice locations. I think I was a bit too much of a strong personality for them- my loud determination was probably overwhelming. I'd shot at too many unnecessary things. And to be quite honest, San Diego was boring as hell. Never any interesting cases, just your typical gang shooting every once in a while. It was, for the most part, a quiet town.

My flight to Vegas was agonizing. I was jittering with excitement to get inside my new apartment, get away from the beach. And as soon as I reached the airport, pulling out my excessive amount of luggage behind me carefully, my eyes scanned everywhere. Las Vegas was a huge crime city, hence why I was here. And I probably looked pretty easy to steal from. 5'4, thin as a stick, not knowing where I was really supposed to be headed. And then I saw the sign.

_Miss Alexandra Smith._

I groaned, hating when people used my whole name. I went by Lexi, not Alexandra. That was some old fashioned name my excuse for a mother had decided sounded beautiful. Lexi was strong, loud. I walked over to the guy who was holding the sign, and I raised my eyebrows. He was a cop, or some guy with the LVPD. I smiled up at him.

"You're here for me?" I asked.

He looked down at me and sighed. "_You're _Alexandra Smith?" he questioned in disbelief. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes," I said irritably. "Do I not fit your description or something?"

He shook his head. "Your height's listed as 5'5, and I can see you're about 5'3."

"Are you a master at height guessing or something?" I snapped, glaring at him as he just shook his head. "I'm 5'4, actually."

"I'm Undersheriff Ecklie," he said, extending his hand. I shook it, and looked up at him.

"Presuming you already know who I am, why are you here?" I asked cautiously. My shift wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow night.

"Change in schedule, you start in…" he checked his watch. "3 hours. I've been asked to drive you to your house."

I nodded, grabbing my luggage and following him as we walked in an awkward silence out of the airport. "You know, I've got a daughter about your age. She's a CSI too," he mused as we walked out of the airport and into the chilly November wind.

"Oh really?" I asked, my feet already aching from the lack of support in my flats.

He nodded. "Her name's Morgan. She's a CSI here."

"As you've already stated," I muttered, and when he looked at me, I just smiled. "My rental car waiting at my house?"

"Yes," he answered as we finally reached his car. I chucked my entire luggage in his trunk, and he checked his watch once more. "Looks like by the time you get to your house, you'll have about an hour before shift."

I groaned. "You guys really don't wait around, do you?"

He actually laughed, which I found odd for his seemingly solemn attitude. "Blame Vegas, not us," he said as we got in the car. "It's never seemed to wait around."

….

These Vegas drivers are really pissing me off.

By the time Undersheriff Ecklie had dropped me off at my apartment, I'd hardly had enough time to take a shower and do my hair before I had to leave. According to this cheap ass GPS my backstabbing friend, Grace, bought me before I left for Vegas, it would take exactly 15 minutes to get the crime lab.

More like 25.

Irritated, I looked at the clock. 10 past 11. I sighed, pulling into the parking garage and hurriedly grabbing my purse. As I quickly walked towards the elevator that led to the door of the crime lab, I could hear laughing. Looking to my right, I could see a young girl with blonde hair, laughing quietly at another girl with short brown hair. I stopped momentarily, and then proceeded once I figured out that they hadn't noticed me.

Pressing the down button as quickly as I could, the elevator doors shutting and taking me downwards. I looked at my cell phone, glad to see I hadn't received any phone calls or text messages about my lateness. As soon as I heard the ding, I didn't even think as I rushed out of the elevator, running right into something.

I fell backwards, hitting the ground. I rubbed the back of my head, which was throbbing in irritation as I stood up and brushed my blonde hair out of my face.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked. The southern accent made my head snap up, and there stood a guy, looking at me kind of in a concerned way. The woman that stood next to him was clearly trying hide her laughter.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, smiling. "My fault, really. I'm just running late, and of course on the first day." I laughed, shaking my head.

"You must be the new girl then?" the woman observed, raising her eyebrows at me. I nodded. "I'm Julie Finnlay, but they call me Finn."

I grinned, shaking her hand. "Alexandra Smith, but they call me Lexi."

She laughed, pointing at me. "I like this one, Nick!"

He rolled his eyes, but shook my hand none the less. "Nick Stokes," he greeted, looking over at Finn. "They just call me Nick."

I let out a slight laugh. "I think I should be going, I'm 15 minutes late," I sighed, checking my watch.

"Yeah, have fun," Finn said as her and Nick stepped into the elevator. I smiled, now walking away and practically running out of the parking garage. As I reached the door, I took a deep breath. The first day is always the worst, no matter which crime lab I worked at.

I opened the door, fixing my hair, which I had carefully straightened at one point, although I figured it was probably all in vain with myself running into people.

"I'm looking for the CSI Supervisor?" I asked the receptionist nervously.

"Down the hall, third door on your left." She answered in a monotone voice, not looking up from her computer.

"Thanks." I said quietly, walking down the hall. I felt like an outsider almost, and was greeted by many stares as I walked down the hallway. Once reaching the door the receptionist had told me about, I noticed it was wide open. I stuck my head in, knocking on it.

A man looked up from his papers, looking me in the eye. "You're the new kid." He stated, setting down the papers.

I cleared my throat. "Lexi Smith," I said, shaking his hand as I walked into the room.

"DB Russell," he said, narrowing his eyes at me. "You came from San Diego." It wasn't really a question. I nodded, and he looked back down at his papers. "Your supervisor described you as impatient, opinionated, and as he said here, 'a bit too much of an adrenaline junkie for San Diego.'"

I blushed. "Yeah," I admitted. "It's a quiet town."

"I've gathered that," he chuckled. "Which is why you came to Vegas."

I nodded. "I'm sorry if he gave me a bad report but-"

"No," he said, holding his hand up to stop me. "He also said that you were brilliant, a quick thinker, observant, and one of the best CSI's he's ever had."

I blushed even more as he said it. "Oh."

"Which is why I've got you on a case with Greg and I," he said, looking up and smiling at me. "Your vest is in your locker." He threw a key at me, and I caught it easily. "You play sports?"

I grinned at him. "Just a science geek."

I walked out of the office, waving at him. I wandered around aimlessly, not really sure where the freaking locker room was. I finally found it, and stuck my key in the locker.

"Hey, who gave you that key?" a nosy voice said from behind me. I spun around, just as my locker was open. A man, who was glaring at me, leaned against the door frame, looking at me expectantly.

I couldn't exactly figure out what to say to the man in the lab coat, but as I opened my mouth to explain that I was the new CSI, someone else spoke.

"Hodges, who are you pestering now?" a voice asked. I looked up from where I'd been staring at the ground, and saw another man, maybe only a few years older than me.

"She was getting into someone's locker," the man, who was apparently Hodges, explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized. "I'm the new CSI; I just went to the locker DB said was mine."

The man blushed in embarrassment as I pulled out my vest and gun. "Oh no, I should be sorry," he said, sounding disappointed. "I'm David Hodges, one of the lab techs around this place."

I shook his hand, and smiled at him. "Nice to meet you. I'm Lexi Smith."

The guy next to him beamed at me. "I'm Greg Sanders. Fellow CSI," he said, looking over at Hodges. "Unlike some people."

I smiled at the two of them, rolling my eyes. "You must be the one who's on this case DB's sending me on with him."

Greg nodded. "That would be me. You know, you don't really look like a nerd, which is odd because I swore DB said you were from Stanford-"

"I am," I interrupted. "Majored in forensics."

He smiled. "We should get going on our case," he said, motioning for me to follow him. I sighed, walking away from the locker room.

"Bye Hodges!" I called, waving to man who just nervously smiled and waved.

"You really shouldn't be that nice to Hodges," Greg said, looking over at smirking at me. "He's really annoying."

I laughed, and we entered DB's office, where he was still reading over papers that were obviously about me. Greg cleared his throat, and sat down in a chair, gesturing for me to sit in the chair next to him. I took my seat, taking a moment to look around my supervisor's office. He obviously had a family, judging by the countless pictures of kids that looked like him, and all of the frames hung a little crooked on the walls.

"Held in a hostage situation while you worked in Phoenix, huh?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the paper.

I nodded slightly. "That was within my first week as a CSI," I laughed nervously. "No one got hurt, still scared the crap out of me though."

"You shot the guy," DB said, setting down the papers and standing up. "Just as he was about to shoot one of your fellow CSI's."

I nodded, following suit as we all walked out of the room, Greg glancing at me. "Did you kill him?" he whispered, not wanting DB to hear.

"She did." DB answered. I tried not to laugh at DB's response to Greg's poorly hidden whisper. "Bullet to the chest."

Greg gave me a playful slug in the shoulder. "Nice one."

I rolled my eyes. I hit him back, as hard as I could. He snapped his head in my direction. "I'm not a dude."

He just laughed at me and gingerly rubbed his shoulder. "You sure about that?"

"Did that really hurt?" I asked, feeling guilty. Already hitting co-workers on the first day.

He shook his head. "You're what…5'2? And like a 100 pounds?"

I frowned. "I'm 5'4."

He smiled at me, and we walked out of the office, following DB back out into the parking garage. "Sure you are."

….

I rubbed my eyes as I looked through the microscope once more as I sat in Hodge's lab. Clearly carpet fibers, but I was just re-checking. Some punk came in and shot some old couple for whatever reason. Probably to rob them, we'd assumed, but nothing was missing. Our only suspect was their neighbor, and DB figured he'd had to roll on the ground to avoid the bat the old man swung at him(I actually found that part kind of funny), which was what I was testing. Carpet fibers from the suspects' jacket.

Hodges had run off to get some coffee, and as I lifted my face from the microscope, I ran a hand through my hair, then heard quiet conversation outside the door.

"She's smoking, Greg," a voice said, and I had to strain my ears to hear it. "You should go for it."

"I don't go for girls because they're smoking hot," Greg scoffed. My eyes widened, and I really wanted to hear the rest of the conversation. "I like them for their personality."

"Greg, she's a freaking genius. Stanford alum too. And you're going to say she doesn't have the personality?" Nick asked in disbelief. I felt my heart sink a little bit. I really liked Greg, he was nice. And cute. But that was irrelevant.

Greg groaned. "No, she's got the _perfect _personality," he said quietly.

"I'm missing the problem here," Nick said.

"I just met her," Greg answered, sounding unsure.

"Either you go after her or I do," Nick said bluntly. I blushed, a terrible habit of mine. I didn't like Nick like that and-

"Nick, she's way younger than you. Leave her alone," Greg said, kind of laughing at the end. There was silence, and the two walked into the lab. I was still gazing out past the microscope, my mind wandering at the words I'd just heard.

"Sleeping on the job?" a voice asked loudly in my ear. Even though I knew he was there, I jumped, and spun around to face Greg. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Carpet fibers," I said simply, yawning and handing them the sample. Nick checked his watch.

"20 minutes till shifts over, I'm saying we get that suspect next time," he said wearily, looking at me carefully. "Are you even awake?"

I gave him a lazy smile. "Kind of."

"Not your normal sleeping schedule?" Greg guessed, leaning against the counter.

"Who else, besides the CSI and graveyard lab techs, has a sleeping schedule like this?" I exclaimed, fighting yet another yawn.

Greg shrugged, and Nick just chuckled. "I'm going home, I pulled a double yesterday and I'm still tired as hell…"

"Yeah, see you tonight Nick," I said, smiling and waving as he left the lab. Greg wandered around, playing with a microscope here and there.

"Your family from San Diego?" he asked curiously, not even looking up at me. I tensed at the mention of the idiots I have to call family, but I shook my head.

"Los Angeles," I said, looking up at him and pursing my lips.

"Ah, my family's from somewhere around that general area too," he said, nodding. "You miss San Diego?"

I snorted. "Yeah, right. Supervisor was an ass, had a clingy ex-boyfriend, and the beach is full of sickeningly sweet couples. Um, no thank you."

He laughed, lifting his head up from the microscope. "Sounds like you hated it there."

"Sounds like you understood what I said," I retorted.

"Why'd you choose to transfer here?" he asked, stepping closer to me. "Could've transferred to Hawaii."

"After you've worked around the beach for 2 years, you really don't want to go to a different one," I said, shrugging. "I wanted Vegas because it's the best crime lab. Ever."

He nodded, smiling to himself, like he knew something I didn't. "What?" I asked, hitting his shoulder playfully. "You know something I don't?"

He shook his head. "We've just had a lot of CSI's come and go. You gonna give up on us once you get tired of seeing the desert?"

I lost my smile, now having to put serious thought into this. "I don't think so," I said softly. "Just depends."

"On what?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Whether I fit in. Whether I like the city. And whether Tanner finds me or not."

"The said clingy ex-boyfriend?" he guessed.

"I switched apartments 7 times last year," I said, looking him in the eye. "Bastard always managed to find me."

"Why does he keep looking for you?" Greg asked, sounding confused.

"Wants me back," I said simply. "I caught him cheating on me. What was I supposed to do, stick around?"

Greg shook his head. "Why do all the pretty girls always get screwed over?" he asked, sighing and sitting next to me.

I blushed at his compliment, willing my rosy cheeks to please stop. "Story of my life," I laughed.

"You said you worked in Arizona?" he asked, leaning back in the chair.

"For 3 years. Then San Diego for 2, and now I'm here."

"State jumper," he noted, looking at the ground.

"Only because I'm avoiding my mom," I said quietly.

"Why's that?" he asked, his facial expression solemn.

I sighed. I was going to tell a mere acquaintance about my parents. Great idea, Lexi. "Dad was an alcoholic. Wife and kid beater, typical ass. Mom was a wimp, never stood up to him. He did the working, she did the stay at home part," I said, looking over at the microscope. "Never ending cycle. He worked, got home, drank, hit someone, went to bed, got up the next morning and repeated. Mom spent any spare time she had making sure I was hiding my bruises well. I hated her for it. She couldn't just stand up to him, be rid of him?"

Greg nodded, motioning for me to continue. "I wanted it to end," I sighed, closing my eyes. "I get home after school one day and here's dad, rounding on mom in the kitchen. She yells at him, he hits her. Something in me just snapped. I ran into his bedroom, grabbed a gun and carried it with me until their scene was over. I just waited for him to go for me, and as soon as he hit me, I shot him.

"I ruined any chance my sister had of knowing her father." I said softly, tears threatening to spill. "She hasn't spoken to me since that happened, and neither has my mom."

"How old were you?" Greg asked me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"16." I whispered, looking away from him. He carefully wiped away a tear that had fallen.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," he said, looking at me. "You sound like a badass."

…

Walking up the stairs of the apartment building, I scanned the hallway for my door. Once I found it, I fished in my pockets for the key. As I was unlocking it, I heard a cheery voice.

"Hello!" it called, and I looked down the hall, where a lady was running towards me, a young teenage boy behind her. I smiled, and the lady raced up to me, extending her hand. "I'm Monica Walker, your neighbor."

I shook her hand. "Lexi Smith," I greeted, smiling.

"This is my son, Aiden," she said, introducing the teenager. He was around 13, probably. I waved at him, and he just nodded in return.

"What brings you to this apartment building?" Monica asked curiously, putting her hands in her pocket.

"New job," I explained. "I work at the crime lab."

"Oh!" she said happily, grinning at me. "Aiden's got a friend who works there, right sweetie?"

Her son blushed, but rolled his eyes. "Mom, she's not a friend. She's just someone I met one time."

"Who is it? I might know her, even though it's only my first day," I assured.

"Her name's Finn," he said quietly. "She was on the case about my best friends' murder."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, feeling awkward. "I bet she solved the case."

"Very quickly," Monica reassured me, nodding.

"Well, if you guys don't mind," I said, feeling guilty. "I have to go. I need some sleep, worked all night."

"Of course!" Monica exclaimed. "Get some rest, Lexi. We'll see you around."

I nodded, shooting them a smile before entering my house and shutting the door behind me. I sighed, flopping down onto my bed. Luggage was scattered everywhere, and I groaned. I knew that as soon as I woke up, I would need to get my ass out of bed and unpack.

But as I drifted off to sleep, the only things that were crossing my mind was Greg and what I had told him.

…

"No, it's the second exit!" Greg insisted, pointing at a sign a few miles ahead.

"The GPS says otherwise!" I argued, pointing at it. He rolled his eyes.

"That thing's always wrong," he grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

"Then why don't you just get rid of it?" I cried, tired of hearing its monotone voice.

He shrugged. "I should have driven."

"You can get us _back _to the Crime Lab, okay?" I compromised, looking at him hopefully.

He smirked and nodded. "Why are we even going out to this place? We're not getting any uniforms for another 15 minutes, they're doing something else."

"DB told us to go out here," I said, taking the second exit like Greg had insisted. "We can just sit and wait."

"Oh yeah, good idea. Let the suspect see our car and make a break for it." He said sarcastically, looking over at me.

I raised my eyebrows. "He won't. He's got 6 hostages, remember? He won't leave them."

He sighed, and I stopped the car as we reached the middle of the desert. I could see the house ahead, and hurried to hide the car behind a few trees.

"You sleep well in Vegas?" Greg asked as I turned the car off. I turned and faced him, pointing to the very small bags under my eyes. "I'll take that as a no."

He laughed, and I leaned back in my seat. "Sometimes, I wonder why anyone else would want a career besides this," I said happily, knowing we were about to bust this creep who took a family of 6 hostage. "Of course, when I was in San Diego I thought otherwise. It was so boring…"

"I think I would have enjoyed the beach," Greg pointed out, glancing over at me. "I snorkel."

"I tried that once," I admitted. "Not my thing though."

"Then what is your thing?" Greg asked curiously. "You can't be that obsessed with your job; there's gotta be something you enjoy besides busting people like this."

I thought for a moment. "I don't think I have one," I said softly.

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Not even shopping?"

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "No. When I was in college, I never partied or anything. Stayed in my room and studied."

"But when you got out of college, you had a boyfriend. So how'd you meet him?" he asked carefully, looking out the window. No cops yet.

"Forensic conference," I said simply. "And then, we started dating, and he was my 'thing'. He was all I focused on after work."

Greg looked like he felt guilty, and before he could speak, cop cars came flying out of nowhere, towards the house. We each grabbed our guns quickly, rushing out of the car to join them.

"You're surrounded!" a voice shouted through a megaphone. "Get out of the house or we'll be forced to come in."

There was no movement, and a cop kicked the door open swiftly. We filed in after the police. They fled through the rooms in the house, clearly confused when they didn't find anyone. They continued to look again, and that's when I spotted it.

In the hallway, was a pull down staircase that led to an attic. I quickly yanked on it, holding my gun carefully as I hoisted all 110 pounds of me up the stairs, until I was standing in the attic.

Face to face with the suspect, looking at the barrel of a gun.

**DUN DUN DUN!  
Okay, so please oh please let me know what you think of this story, it's my first CSI fanfic (I usually write Harry Potter, lol totally different worlds here.) If you hate it, let me know, and if you love it, let me know. I really like Greg and OC stories, but I decided to change it up a little bit and put it in current season 12(with Morgan). I'm a huge Greg/Morgan shipper, but I like the OC's too.:) So yeah, don't follow or favorite without dropping me a review! REVIEWING HELPS THE MIND WANT TO UPDATE! Thanks.(:**


	2. Tanner's Back

**Disclaimer: As shocking as this is, I don't own CSI. :O**

"Typical CSI's, nosy as always," a voice sneered. I looked past the gun and into the eyes of a crazed man.

"Sir, please, put the gun down." I said shakily, looking around the room. The family of 6 had gathered in a corner, the mom and dad's hands were both tied up, as well as their teenage son and daughter. "You don't want to hurt anyone."

"But I do!" he insisted, walking towards me and grabbing my arm. He led me to where the hole back downstairs was and pointed at it with his gun. "Guess how many feet it is to the bottom?"

"I don't know," I muttered softly, trying to judge how I could land on my feet. He chuckled.

"Try 200. You climbed quite a ways up those stairs, CSI Smith." He said coldly, prodding me to jump. "Go ahead."

I shook my head defiantly and turned around to face him. "You have to let them go, please," I begged, looking back at the family, who was trying not to watch me.

He laughed, and before I knew it, he had fired his gun. A sharp pain stabbed my stomach, and my eyes bulged as I felt myself falling down.

The moment seemed to last forever, and I screamed as loud as I could. I hit the ground with a loud thud, and gasped for air as I felt a lack of it. I heard footsteps rushing towards me, and with wide eyes, I looked around.

Everything was a blur. Officers were flying up the stairs right next to me, all of them ignoring me. Did they know I was shot? I clenched my teeth, trying not to cry from all the pain. I pressed my hand to my lower stomach, feeling warm and sticky blood. I didn't look down, but I knew it'd been a hit right below my vest, which was slightly small for me.

With both hands, I put pressure to my stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. The racket continued, and I heard shots. I prayed everyone was okay. I made a motion to stand up, grabbing onto the wall of the old house's hallway. I pulled myself up, and opened my eyes despite the pain. Where was everyone?

My vision was getting blurrier, and I shut my eyes altogether. I walked blindly, until I hit a wall, and turned to the right. Someone grabbed me, pulling me in tightly for a hug. I gasped, coughing and still clutching my stomach. I opened my eyes, and could see an empty hallway in front of me. I sniffed, and inhaled the scent of someone. Greg.

"My stomach," I groaned, and he pulled away from me, allowing me to breath. He looked down and froze. "Greg."

His attention snapped back up to me, and he wordlessly grabbed my arm and tugged me out of the house quickly. "Breathe, Lexi. Can you breathe?" he asked worriedly as I was placed onto a gurney. He followed me into the ambulance, watching my face carefully.

I nodded slightly. "Are they okay?" I choked out, feeling myself being slowly pulled into unconsciousness.

"They got him, Lex. Calm down, okay?" he whispered, gripping my hand tightly.

"Is the family okay?" I snapped, knowing he was avoiding my question.

He paused. "Last I heard, the dad got shot trying to block his wife."

I couldn't take it. I had failed, and now someone was dead because I hadn't done my job. I started to cry, this now pushing me over the edge. "You have to calm down, miss!"

The voice pulled me away from my crying and I nodded, wiping away tears. "You're gonna be okay..."

I was about to protest, but could feel myself pass out.

…

"I should have sent officers up there with her," a voice groaned. I recognized it as Greg's and my eyes flew open. Sitting around my bed was Greg and Russell, the two of them talking to each other.

"No, you couldn't have really expected that," Russell assured him, patting him on his shoulder.

"I think the statement about me being an adrenaline junkie has been proven," I croaked out, coughing slightly and looking over at DB.

"Hey, look who's alive!" he exclaimed, smiling broadly.

"Kind of," I smirked, raising my eyebrows at Greg.

"Doc said you're gonna be fine," Greg answered, rolling his eyes. "They surgically removed that bullet from your stomach, he's sending you home in a few hours."

"Do I get to keep the bullet?" I asked, grinning.

Russell laughed. "Yeah, right. It's going to be used as evidence in the case against the hostage keeper."

I sighed. "Fine. But maybe it'll just disappear right out of the evidence room," I hinted.

"And maybe you'll get fired?" Greg reminded me with a smile. I laughed, shaking my head.

"Nah, I won't steal from the evidence room, I swear, Russell."

Russell raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, I know you won't," he answered, standing up from his chair. "You've been ordered a week long rest period."

"What?" I exclaimed, sitting up in bed.

As he walked out of the room, I heard him call back, "Don't show up, I'll just send you home!"

I groaned, rolling over in bed and propping my head up with my hand. Greg watched me, an amused expression playing on his face. "A week." I sighed, looking at him. "A week without work. A week of sitting around and doing absolutely nothing."

"Sounds boring," he commented as he crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, propping his feet onto my bed. "You gonna need a visitor?"

I rolled my eyes. "Rhetorical question. Breakfast at my house, every morning!" I claimed, grinning.

He just cocked his head to the side a little before biting his lip. "You wanna grab a beer after they release you?"

"I'm sure that's the best way to kick off a speedy recovery, right?" I asked, looking at him innocently.

"I'll be here at 6."

"So will I!" I challenged happily as he rolled his eyes and stood up. "Bye Greggy!"

He looked back at me and kind of glared a little before smiling. "Goodbye Alexandra!"

He peeled out of the room, leaving me to pretend glare before laughing.

…

I was standing by the receptionist desk, filling out my release form quickly. I knew Greg would be here any minute, since it was his night off.

"Lex?" a voice asked from behind me. I spun around, now done with the receptionists. I frowned, disappointed when I saw it wasn't Greg. And I felt my stomach drop when I saw it was Tanner.

"Leave me alone," I muttered, walking past him quickly, into the hallway.

He chased after me. I prayed I'd see Greg soon, and kept walking. "Lexi!" he caught up with me and grabbed my arm.

I yanked it away from him. "Go back to San Diego." I ordered, and took off walking again, now reaching an elevator, and just before it shut, Tanner jumped inside, leaving it to be just the two of us.

"I miss you." He said, trying to meet my eyes. Tanner had a temper, a supporting reason why I left him in the first place, besides the fact that he had been cheating on me.

"I don't miss you." I said coldly, glaring at him. "Stop trying to get me back."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Lex, I know you miss me."

"Don't call me that!" I yelled, shoving him backwards as all patience I had snapped. "Just stop following me!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Someone has some newfound strength," he laughed. I glared at him, and he pressed his lips to mine.

I shoved him backwards again, and he caught my arm in midair as I was about to hit him. He chuckled and shook his head. The elevator dinged, and as it did, he shoved me into the wall, pinning my arms. "Go." I pleaded, shutting my eyes.

He was suddenly pulled off me, and there was a scuffling sound as he hit the ground outside of the elevator. Stepping forward and peeking out of the elevator, I could see Greg was staring down at him with this disgusted look. I stepped out and grabbed Greg's hand, pulling him away with me and not saying a word.

"Is that your new boyfriend?" Tanner called from down the hall, and I ignored him as we walked out of Desert Palm.

"Still up for that beer?" I asked Greg, letting go of his hand. He just looked at me, debating what he should say.

"More than I was when we originally agreed."

…

I sipped on my beer, listening to Greg tell me all about the case the team was working on that involved a triple homicide. I couldn't stand knowing I wouldn't get to go back to work for another week, but I tried not let it bother me.

"Who was creepy ex-boyfriend?" Greg bluntly asked me when he finished his story. I looked up at him, unsure of how to respond.

"That was Tanner," I answered nervously. "Ex-boyfriend I met in San Diego."

"He's a jerk," Greg commented casually, and I smiled.

"Thanks though, for helping me out with that," I said quietly. "He's, um, a bit sore about us."

"Sore?" he chuckled, sipping his own beer.

"Well, by sore I mean totally obsessed with me," I said, pondering my own words.

"I don't really blame him." Greg muttered.

"What?" I asked, scrunching my eyebrows in confusion.

"I mean I don't really blame him in the sense that he's obsessed with you. You're perfect." He admitted, shrugging at the words.

I laughed nervously. "No, not at all. I'm too obsessed with work, I have no life, my hair is untamable, I screwed everything up between my family and I, I wasn't cautious when going up the stairs and got myself shot-"

"Shut up," Greg said, kind of loudly. It made me stop, and I looked down at the table. "Just because you have things wrong with you doesn't mean you're not perfect. It just means your human."

I smiled. "Thanks, Greg," I said before downing the rest of my beer upon seeing his empty glass.

"You ready to go?" he sighed, stretching and yawning.

"We should go do something else," I claimed, grinning and looking around. "Let's go streaking!"

He just smiled and raised his eyebrows. "I think it's time to go."

"Time to go streaking!" I added, making him roll his eyes and step out of the booth. He took my hand and helped me out, wrapping his arm around my waist as we left the bar.

We walked down the strip, just he and I. It was silence, until he cleared his throat. "Hey, Lex?" he asked quietly, glancing at me.

"Yeah?" I asked, watching the bright lights of Las Vegas as they captured my attention.

"Why did you ruin your sister's chance of getting to know your dad?" he questioned as we crossed the street.

I sighed. "She um, she had just found out he was her dad after 19 years. Her mom had died, and finally showed Casey her birth certificate for the first time ever."

"Which lead her to go and find your dad?" he guessed quietly as we listened to the music of horns honking.

"Yeah," I said softly, looking up at New York New York. "I'd never been to Vegas before now."

"Is that so?" he asked, pulling me along and now holding my hand.

"I'd just seen pictures. I'm glad I chose to come here though," I revealed as he scanned the area. I listened to the sirens and groaned inwardly, knowing Greg would probably get called out on this scene.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he huffed, turning and watching as the cop cars slid to a stop in front of New York New York.

"Greg?" I mumbled as I leaned into his shirt, feeling the sleepiness now taking me over. We had stopped walking to watch the cops file into the casino.

"Yeah?" he asked me, looking down .

"You're pretty awesome."

He blushed at my words and gave me a goofy grin. "Says the girl who survived getting shot and drank a beer on her first night out of the hospital."

I looked up, smiling right back at him. And before I could do anything, his lips were on mine, and we were kissing.

It wasn't like majorly intense or anything, just really nice and meaningful. I pulled back slowly, smirking at him. "We could get fired." I reminded Greg.

He rolled his eyes. "Who says anyone has to know?"

I smirked. "Ooh, I feel like a rebellious teenager."

He chuckled, kissing me on the cheek before we continued walking. "You ever did the whole 'hide your relationship from your parents'?" he asked, sounding extremely happy.

"Once," I said, thinking way back. "When I was 14. I dated a senior when I was just a freshman, pissed my dad off. We dated in secret for like a year after that."

He nodded slowly. "I didn't do any of that. God, I was lucky if I went to prom with someone," he laughed, shaking his head. "I was such a nerd."

"So was I!" I insisted, laughing. "The senior I dated was in the science club with me!" We both busted up laughing, and I squeezed his hand. "God, why couldn't I have met you in high school?"

He shook his head solemnly. "I'm very glad you didn't," he said grimly. "I was the biggest nerd ever in high school."

"And you think I wasn't?" I asked, smiling to him. "I was made fun of all 4 years through high school. I just advise any smart person to not get bright pink braces their freshman year, it typically gets you stuck with 'geek' written across your forehead."

He looked over at me seriously. "I know, believe me. Had the headset, rubber bands and everything. All worth it though," he said, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling.

I grinned. There was an awkward moment when we just stared at each other's teeth before he started laughing. "What?" I asked, confused.

"I just can't seem to imagine you with braces. Much too pretty." He said, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, imagine these perfect teeth with railroad tracks pressed against them," I smiled, and he shook his head.

"Still can't see it."

"When I imagine you with a headset, it reminds me of little Willy Wonka. You ever see that movie?" I giggled, looking up at him.

"Only a billion times," he admitted, swinging our hands back and forth. "Little kid with an OCD dentist for a father. Little kid becomes famous chocolate brewer, end of story."

"Not exactly," I pointed out as we reached his car. "You forgot the bitch that turns into a blueberry."

He rolled his eyes and unlocked the car, and we both jumped in. "Well you forgot the fat kid."

"You forgot the umpaloompas!" I challenged, crossing my arms. He started the car, already driving out into the road.

"No, I didn't," he sighed, turning down a street. "How could I? You're only like an inch taller than them."

I scoffed, and he bit back laughter. "I'll have you know, _once again_, that I am 5'4."

"5'2," he coughed, grinning over at me in the passenger's seat.

I fake pouted. "I can't help that I'm short."

"No," he said quietly. "Short looks good on you though."

I hit him in the arm. "That's the part where you're supposed to say 'No, Lexi, you're really about 5'5'."

"Damn, stop it with the hitting me!" he teased, lightly hitting me back.

I hit him again. "I told you that I'm not a dude!"

He sighed as we pulled into my driveway. I blushed, feeling bad I just hit him. "You coming back to work soon?" he asked hopefully as we sat in the silent car.

"Russell said a week, but I think I'll sneak in tomorrow night." I said, rubbing my hands together. "I'll just tag along on some random case with someone."

"You haven't been on a case with Morgan or Sara yet, try them?" he suggested, looking me in the eye.

"I haven't exactly spoken that much with them," I said, smirking. "You don't want me on a case with you?"

"You have really pretty eyes."

I grinned, and pulled him in to kiss him softly. It took him a minute to react, but when he did, he kissed me back gently. He pulled away and wiggled his eyebrows at me. "We're trying to keep our jobs, Greg. Please don't go and brag," I laughed as I opened the door and stepped out. He rolled down the window.

"I'll see you for breakfast, right?!" he called as I walked up the door that led into the apartment building.

"Bye, Greg!" I yelled back, just grinning at him.

I entered the apartment building lobby and figured I should just climb the stairs after my bad elevator experience. As I got closer to my apartment, I could hear whispering. "You think she's dead?" a voice whispered, and I smirked, knowing it was one of Aiden's friends. Typical boys.

I appeared from around the corner, assuming they'd been talking about my 2 day absence. I looked at the two boys, one of them holding a gun in his shakily hands. The other one was Aiden, who was holding the kid back from the body. "What the hell did you do?" I said quietly, still watching the body of the teenage girl.

"Oh great, now someone's seen!" Aiden's friend groaned. I glared at them before leaning down to check the girls pulse. She had a gunshot to the leg and mid-stomach, further up than my shot had been.

There was a very faint pulse, and I thanked God. "You two, go call 911." I ordered, and they both nodded, running back into the room. I began to perform CPR before Aiden tossed a cell phone at me.

After speaking hurriedly with the lady on the other end, I hung up and chucked the phone as hard as I could to Aiden, looking away as it hit him in the head.

"What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing his forehead.

"For shooting her!" I exclaimed, and could feel her pulse going stronger.

"Leo did, not me!" he yelled, holding his hands up. His friend glared at him before turning back to me.

"She was hitting Aiden's apartment door with a hammer!" he shouted. I looked around, seeing a hammer laid next to the door, which had apparent holes in it.

"Why was she doing that?" I asked, looking away from the body.

"She was a stealing," Leo said defiantly, glaring at the body. "Or looking for Mrs. Walker. I wouldn't be surprised with either one."

Aiden now glared at Leo. "Why wouldn't you be surprised? And why did you have a gun in the first place?" I questioned, but his answer was cut off with paramedics running up the stairs. I stepped away from the body and looked back at Aiden and Leo.

"Miss Smith, are you okay?" an officer asked me, nervously looking back and forth at Leo and Aiden.

"I'm fine, Thomas," I told him, remembering him from the scene we'd entered days ago when I was shot. "Just take them into custody, then find Mrs. Walker."

He nodded quickly, allowing himself and the other officer to cuff Aiden and Leo, both of whom were openly glaring at me. I ignored them, swinging my apartment door open and stepping inside.

Everything in my apartment was completely unpacked, and it was looking better than I had expected. I sighed, yanking open a drawer and changing into my shorty-short pajama bottoms and large T-shirt. I leaped into bed, not using covers because it felt like it was 100 degrees in my house.

I dozed off into sleep.

"_You are such a bitch!" Casey shrieked, chucking a plate at my head. I ducked, letting it crash into the wall. "You killed him!"_

"_I had no other choice!" I cried, stepping towards my half-sister. "Why would you want to get to know an abusive alcoholic?"_

"_I went 19 years without a father, and when I want to get to know him, you kill him?!" her screech rang though the kitchen, and mom stepped in between us._

"_Casey," she said darkly, not even looking back at me. "I am upset with Alexandra as well, but you cannot be throwing plates-"_

"_Why are you upset with me?" I hollered, rolling my eyes at my mother's stupidity. "I did you a favor!"_

"_You call killing my husband, _your father_, a favor?" she snapped, turning on me._

"_He was hurting you and me both!" I said through gritted teeth, stepping closer to her. _

"_For God's sake, Alexandra, it's _life_!" she scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. "You learn to deal with it and move the hell past it!"_

"_You're embarrassed!" I claimed, pointing at her. "You're embarrassed now that all your friends know you were living a lie! If you had just gotten us help, you wouldn't have put me through 16 years of _hell_!"_

_Her nostrils flared in anger. "You were fine, Alexandra."_

"_I was not!" I growled, poking a finger in her chest. "I am your _daughter_! Does that mean _anything _to you?!"_

_She was silent. "No daughter of mine speaks to me like that."_

_I laughed in her face. "'Learn to deal with it and move the hell past it." I quoted. "It's life."_

_Her eyes widened in rage. "You are nothing but a spoiled little-"_

I jumped up, startled at my own dream. It was reliving the day after dad's death all over again. I listened closely though, seeing as I was almost positive some noise had woken me up.

It sounded again, the loud knocking on my door. I sighed, getting out of bed and wrapping a robe around me before I went to the door. Opening it, I could see Captain Brass standing there, Finn next to him.

"Morning," I croaked, my voice hoarse. I squinted at the bright hallway light.

"Sorry to wake you, Lexi," Finn said, leaning against the door. "Russell and I were just wondering what the hell you even saw."

I laughed to myself before stepping out and shutting the door behind me. "She's awake!" Russell teased from where he was standing in front of Mrs. Walker's door.

"Barely," I complained as I rubbed my eyes. "Why's everyone crowded over here though? That girl was shot over there." I pointed to the end of the hallway, looking back to Mrs. Walker's apartment.

"Lady's dead," a voice called from inside the room. I stuck my head in, only to see Nick processing the scene, the dead body of Mrs. Walker lying in the middle of the room. There was blood everywhere, suggesting she'd been stabbed.

"Holy crap," I commented, feeling the surprise in my own voice.

"That's what I said!" another voice said from the bedroom of the apartment. Morgan stuck her head out and waved to me. "Hey! Great area you live in!" she gave me thumbs up, and I laughed.

"More like great area I can afford to live in," I sighed, looking back at my door.

"It just seems like a _great _place to raise your kids," Nick noted, glancing around the apartment.

I looked at him pointedly. "No way in hell I'd raise my kids here."

"Makes me wonder about this lady," Russell said offhandedly, pointing to her kitchen. "Expensive china, nice furniture. Was she rich?"

I shrugged. "Only spoke to her once," I recalled, and then turned to Finn. "Her son said he knew you."

Finn nodded slightly. "We were on the murder case of one of his friends," she said, looking like she was now remembering all of this. "You think they meant to kill that teenager?"

About to answer her question, I could see someone ran around the corner. I looked up at Sara, raising my eyebrows. "Guy just called the crime lab and said he saw a man walking out of the apartment with a bloody knife," she panted, looking at us. "We got him. Early thirties, driver's license says he's Tanner Durfee."

My heart seemed to stop, realizing my ex-boyfriend may have just killed Mrs. Walker.

And if he had, did he mean to?

Or was he looking for me?

**Semi-cliffy. Thanks a bunch to the people who reviewed, I most defidentally appreciate it!:) You guys are awesome! **

**Okay, so PLEASE let me know: What do you think about Tanner? Do you think his character is kind of real enough? And I'll mention this in a later chapter, but no, he wasn't abusive. He was just had a temper, and as you can tell, he's waayyy overly obsessed with Lexi. I personally like his character, makes a good villain;)**

**Also, what did you think about Greg and Lexi's kiss? *raises eyebrows suggestively* and about her getting shot, but Greg being there for her? So cute!:) **

**The Willy Wonka scene?:) Haha that part kind of brought back memories for me! **

**REVIEW! Yes, press the shiny button and fill my head with your much wanted and beautiful reviews. Even if they're negative, let me hear em!**

**Thanks!:))**


	3. The Explosion

**Disclaimer: Don't own CSI. Enjoy.(:**

I was sitting in my chair, the silence around me becoming creepy. I sighed and looked around, seeing that no one was there at all. Ever since they'd caught Tanner, I'd been super paranoid, which didn't make any sense. He was behind bars. Not in my freaking house.

I was wearing what I usually wore when I had days devoted to sitting around: sweats, a shirt and slippers. My hair was swept into a ponytail, and my eyes carried bags from lack of sleep. I kept waking up and looking around, expecting Tanner to be standing right in front of me with an ax. But he never was.

The knock on my door surprised me, and I slid across the wood floor to reach it. I had to jump to see through the peephole, and when I saw Greg's face fly down with my own line of vision, I quickly opened the door. He stood there, still in his clothes from work. "Breakfast?" he asked curiously, sniffing the air.

"If you're hoping to smell bacon, all you'll find is paint." I said quietly, pulling him into my apartment and kicking the door shut behind me.

"You gonna make some?" he asked desperately, and I smiled.

"What's the magic word?" I sang, pulling bacon out of the fridge, where it resided in its unopened package. I had only bought bacon for Greg, I wasn't a huge fan of it.

"Please," he grumbled, sitting down at my counter so he could watch me cook.

I smiled in satisfaction and threw bacon onto the skillet, letting everything around it boil. Greg looked at in a very hungry way, and as soon as it was done, I chucked it at his plate. "Why so hungry?" I asked, finishing the rest of the bacon pieces.

"Didn't eat dinner," he mumbled through a mouth full of food.

"How about some manners?" I asked, wearing a disgusted expression. He swallowed his bacon before looking up at me.

"Sorry," he apologized, lying his head down on my counter.

"Morning news time!" I announced happily, snagging his arm and dragging him to my couch, where we both collapsed in exhaustion.

"6 more days," he whispered in my ear, and I grinned proudly.

"No," I said, crossing my arms. "Try 2."

He grinned and took my hand in his. "You got Russell to let you back early?"

I nodded. "I'm so tired of sitting around," I complained, and he laughed.

"You've only been here for a day," he reminded me. I laid my head on his shoulder.

"And it is so boring!" I exclaimed. He shrugged.

"I bet it is, but don't you think it's a bit soon?" he asked nervously, carefully placing a hand on my thin stomach and letting it slide down, stopping at right where they'd taken the bullet out.

"No," I answered softly, looking up into his brown eyes. "But thanks for coming and visiting."

"Hey now, you offered me bacon. No sane man says no to bacon." He said seriously, and I rolled my eyes.

"Pancakes tomorrow then," I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Sounds nice to me," he said, placing an arm around my shoulder and smiling comfortably to himself.

….

The phone ringing made me jolt awake, mostly because it wasn't the ring of my cell phone or my apartment phone. I looked around, and figured out I was lying on the couch. I looked down, seeing my legs laid across Greg's lap, and he himself was blinking around unsurely.

"Morning," I smiled as I sat up, swinging my legs onto the floor and approaching the sound of the ringing. It led me to Greg's phone, which sat on the counter. It was pitch black outside, and once I looked at the clock, I could see Greg was really late for work.

"Hello?" he answered when I anxiously tossed him the phone. Someone spoke on the end, Greg rolled his eyes, and nodded. "I'll be there in 10."

He sat up and stretched, groaning as he did so. I grinned wickedly at him before running into my room. I searched the closet for clothes, and luckily found some that were in a box.

I don't think I've ever done my hair faster, just sweeping it up into a neat ponytail before sprinting into my kitchen, where Greg was opening my fridge and rummaging around. "Take what you'd like," I said casually as I snuck up behind him. "But I think we need to go to work." He looked over at me, raising his eyebrows. I yanked on his shirt sleeve, smiling. "Come on, Greg. I'll even stay in the lab, what more do you want from me?"

He sighed in resignation as he grabbed a piece of toast from the toaster. I grinned and hurried out of my apartment building, Greg right behind me as I quickly ran down the stairs, careful not to fall on my face and break an arm or something. "Wait up, Lex!" he called, nearly toppling down them himself. I caught him, grabbing his hand and tugging him out to his Denali.

"I'm so excited!" I squealed as he started his car, still rubbing his eyes. "I cannot wait to get back to work!"

"And you can also get me in trouble for this," he mentioned, looking over at me pointedly.

"You love me too much to care!" I cried, grinning as I listened to his annoying rock music that didn't seem to bother me today.

"Yeah, I do," he muttered quietly as we drove down the road.

"Greg," I said, looking over at him as he drove.

"Yeah?" he answered, his eyes still glued to the road ahead of him.

"How did things go with the guy who shot me and the dad?" I asked curiously.

He shrugged. "Russell wouldn't let me on the case."

"Well that's just so kind of him," I said bitterly, crossing my arms. "Why did he even do that?"

Greg shrugged and smiled over at me. "Don't worry, Lexi. I'll bet you 100 dollars they caught him."

I smirked and shook my head. "I don't gamble."

"Says the girl who lives in Vegas," he said, rolling his eyes at me.

"No, I always lose." I explained simply, crossing my arms.

"Whatever. You should let me take you gambling. My winning percentage is pretty high," he said cockily, and I shook my head again.

"Something tells me that's a lie." I said.

"You know me too well," he sighed in defeat as we pulled into the parking garage.

"What's your case right now?" I asked as we sat in the silent car.

"Lady drove into a coffee shop for no reason." He said simply as we stepped out of the car.

"She kills anyone?"

"Only herself." He said, looking over at me. I was avoiding his gaze as I thought carefully.

"You check for drugs in the car?" I asked, my head spinning.

"No, she was like 16," he said, shaking his head.

"You put too much past people, Greg."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, amusement apparent in his voice.

"Yeah."

"Like what?"

"You would probably put it past me that I could kill someone."

"No." he said, shaking his head. "That is not something I would put past you."

We both just laughed as we reached the elevators, and before stepping in one, he looked around. "What?" I asked, wondering why he was being so weird.

"You think you could kill someone?" he asked quietly.

"I already have."

"Same here."

"Really?" I asked as we stepped into the elevator. Greg? Killing someone? Please. He was far too gentle.

"About 5 years ago, but yeah, I did. Not intentionally, he tried to kill me first," he admitted before shaking his head. "Bad memories."

I raised my eyebrows, and just as I was about to say something, the ding of the elevator startled the both of us. The doors slid apart, and standing in front of us was Nick and Morgan. "Oh, hi!" I said with a nervous chuckle, pulling on the end of my sleeve.

"You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow?" Morgan asked, looking at me strangely.

"Huh, is that right?" I asked, playing dumb. She nodded and narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah. And you planned this." She stated, smirking at me.

"What? No, I was really planning on coming back tomorrow but-"

"You should probably go inside," Nick interrupted, looking back. "Aren't you already late, Greggo?"

Greg blushed at the use of the nickname, and as we stepped in they stepped out. As soon as I heard the doors shut, I turned to Greg. "Greggo?"

He looked away from me, embarrassed. "Dumb pet name," he grumbled, opening the door for me into the crime lab.

"But you like it!" I claimed, pulling on his arm. "Oh, Greggo-"

"Shut _up, _Lexi!" he laughed, rolling his eyes. "Right about now, you resemble a little kid."

I looked to where I had been pulling on his arm and blushed, looking away. There was silence, and I looked back over at him. "Now's the time when you tell me I'm about as tall as one anyways."

He gave me a confused look before shaking his head. "No, Lexi, you're really about 5'5." He quoted from the night he dropped me off at my apartment. I couldn't resist giggling, but shut up immediately as we walked into Russell's office. He was impatiently sorting paperwork, but when we entered, he looked up momentarily before sighing.

"Can't keep you away," he mumbled, his comment clearly directed towards me.

"Why would anyone want to?" I teased, and he just shook his head before turning to Greg.

"Take Lexi with you, head out to that kidnapping scene in the desert." He ordered. Greg nodded quickly before practically running out of the office. We both knew we were way late.

"I hate kidnappings," he mumbled as we exited the crime lab.

"Me too, Greggo," I sighed. "Me too."

…

Have I ever mentioned I hate cats?

Tanner used to have a cat, he called him Einstein. The stupid animal made me sneeze for weeks on end until I finally gave it to an animal shelter. I was desperately allergic to them, but apparently the missing kid's family wasn't.

I sneezed away from the scene, my eyes puffy. It hadn't really kicked in until I started processing the missing little boy's room, and I easily figured out that he had to have had multiple cats staying in the room from time to time. Taking a picture of the boy's window, which was left open a crack, I could see fingerprints across it, and I sighed.

"Greg!" I called out, my voice nasally. He hurried into the room, clearing misunderstanding me and thinking I was being attacked.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking around.

"Besides my cat allergy? Nothing. But there are prints on the window, and you have the kit since I left mine at home." I pointed out. He nodded and handed me fingerprint strips. I got to work on the window, but could sense him watching me. "What?"

"You look like crap." He noted as he leaned against the wall.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, glaring and rolling my eyes. "You're so supportive."

"Aren't I?" he smirked. "But seriously, your eyes look like someone just poured a bottle of lemonade in them."

"You have the weirdest analogies," I mumbled, shaking my head. Lemonade? Really? "But yes, they feel a lot like that for the moment."

"I'm sorry," he said, placing a soft hand on my shoulder. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine." I snapped. "Just irritated with this scene. The only thing I might have is fingerprints-"

"And they're child sized," he said quietly, leaning in to take a closer look at them. "Half of them are on the outside of the window too."

"But the other half are on the inside," I pointed out. "Which could be from the kid opening his window. The ones on the outside though?"

"Could be our kidnapper."

"You think a kid kidnapped a kid?" I said, stumbling over the alliteration.

He shrugged. "Apparently I put too much past people. So I'm trying to have an open mind."

"Care to join me, oh great open mind? I need to fingerprint the outside of the window."

He smirked, joining me as I walked outside. There were several flowers planted outside of the house, which kind of made sense. The mom's entire bedroom looked like a garden had thrown up on it. Floral bedspread, vases full of roses everywhere-

"Oh look, Lexi. You're best friends decided to join us!" Greg said enthusiastically, and I could hear the smugness in his voice. I looked down to see a cat, her weird eyes staring up at me.

"Go away!" I whined, shooing the cat, but she remained where she was. "Yes, you! You suck!"

Greg stifled a laugh at my words, seeing as the stupid cat just didn't really want to move. She ran away, and as she left, she climbed up a tree with impressive speed. I continued to watch as she stood on the outside of a tree house, meowing. "She knows something we don't." Greg said quietly in my ear.

I groaned. "I hate cats!"

"I've gathered that," he responded, dragging me towards the tree. "But you love solving crimes. So come on, you go first so I can catch you if you fall."

"No, you won't be able to catch me," I argued, raising my eyebrows. "I will just fall on you."

"Just go," he sighed, giving me a slight push. I rolled my eyes and grabbed onto a branch, hoisting myself upwards. "See, you're really good at climbing trees!"

"I know," I answered, standing by the tree house and glaring at the cat. "It's her I hate."

The cat gave out a loud meow in response, running into the tree house as Greg and I followed her inside. "More like a tree-condo," Greg mumbled, looking around. "Place is as big as my bedroom."

The cat stood by this grandfather clock, which was turned around so all you could see was the back of it. She began to scratch wildly at it, looking back and forth between it and us. "Give me a hand?" I suggested, and Greg quickly helped me spin the grandfather clock around.

Standing back, I felt my breath catch. I was going to be sick to my stomach. Shoved inside the grandfather clock was a little boy, his body motionless. "How the hell do you get a huge ass clock up here?" Greg asked, a frown clear in his voice.

"Better yet, how do you stick a little boy in one?" I questioned, more to myself than him.

He just watched the boy, and suddenly, his chest rose and fell. My eyes widened, and I looked around the tree house. Spotting a hammer, I snatched it . I took one careful swing, and smashed the glass completely in. The boy's body fell out, and Greg narrowly missed catching him, but laid him on the ground anyways.

The clock struck midnight, and I could feel a creepy feeling in my gut. I looked inside the clock as I subconsciously heard Greg radio for paramedics. Behind a hand, sat a note, which had been taped to the back of the clock.

_12:02._

I yanked it off, and the ticking of the clock became suddenly louder and louder. My eyes widened. "Greg, we have to go!" I yelled, motioning for him to grab the little boy. He looked at me, his facial expression screaming confusion.

"There's a bomb!" I shouted in explanation. Before I needed to say anything else, Greg scooped the little boy up, and the both of us stepped onto the side of the tree house.

And then it was suddenly really hot, and there was a loud bang. We were flying through the air and-

We were too late.

…

My eyes snapped open, the sound of crackling heard in the background. I could hear shouting in the distance, but besides that, there was nothing. I sat up, feeling a slight pain of soreness. I ignored it and looked around before spotting Greg, who was leaning over the body of a little boy. He had his fingers pressed to his neck and was examining him worriedly.

Rushing over, I leaned against the chest of the boy, and could hear a slight heartbeat. "Where are the paramedics?" I demanded, looking between Greg and the little boy.

"Over there," he said, nodding to where these guys with a gurney were running over towards us. We stepped back, letting them pick the kid up and take him out of there. I looked behind us, the tree house still engulfed in flames. The light it created in the pitch black sky was bright and jaw-dropping, but we needed it put out. I turned back around, but only to see firefighters rushing towards it with hoses and fire extinguishers. "Let's go," Greg sighed, pulling on my arm gently. I nodded, walking away with him towards the front yard of the house.

Sitting out by her car was a hysterical mother, crying into the shoulder of her husband. And next to them, stood a young boy, who reminded me a lot of Aiden. He just stood there, staring out at the tree-house with a mystified expression.

"You two okay?" a voice asked, and I looked over to see Russell hurrying towards us.

"Totally fine," I nodded, smiling. "Not even a scratch."

"Uh-huh," he said, looking me over before continuing on. "Well whoever this kidnapper was, didn't kidnap him at all."

"Why didn't the parents look inside the tree house in the first place?" Greg asked quietly, his eyes roaming over to the distraught mother.

"Great question," I sighed, looking back at the now burned but fire-less tree house. "What about the son? Child-like finger prints on the window say he could be a suspect."

"And you guys got your fingerprints from there, right?" Russell asked, pointing to the window.

"Just the inside," Greg said guiltily, scratching the back of his head. "We can go fingerprint the outside now, though."

"Yeah, go ahead. I'll just go ask the family a few questions," Russell said before turning around and walking off to the parents. I picked up Greg's kit from where it still sat next to the flowers and pulled out strips.

"Oh my God," Greg laughed, and pointed to right next to the tree house. "It's still alive!"

I looked around, and right where he was pointing, was a cat. The same cat. Her white fur had been stained with smoke, but other than that, she was fine. She just looked over at us, cocking her head to the side slightly. "I don't think it'd be fair for me to hate that cat, would it?" I sighed, crossing my arms and glaring at her.

"Not really," he chuckled, leaning down to look at the cat, which was now walking towards us. "Hey, you see this?"

I leaned down, already fighting the urge to sneeze. But on the cat's leg, were slight drops of blood. I reached into the kit and pulled out the swab, tossing it to Greg. He swabbed the blood quickly before reaching down and petting the cat. "You think it's the blood of the kidnapper?"

He shrugged, but looked back at the parents. "You wanna get a DNA sample on them?"

I smirked, picking up three swabs and walking away. Why hadn't the parents checked the tree house? And if the kid made it out okay, would he remember anything? He was only 4, might not. "Mrs. Herren?" I asked awkwardly, looking at the sobbing mother. She sniffed, ceasing her crying, and looked up at me. "I spoke to you earlier today?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry about the tree-house, but thank you for getting Tommy out of there-"

I held up a hand. "No need to thank me. Thank Greg Sanders, my co-worker. But I was wondering if I could get a DNA sample from you and your family?"

She looked down nervously at her older son, then met her husband's gaze. "I don't see why not," she mumbled.

"Perfect."

I took the swabs, and once I closed them up, took a close look at the older boy. Nail marks were slashed across his arms, and he looked away from me, quickly covering them up. "You know, Mrs. Herren, you have a very smart cat."

"What? Sierra? Oh, yes, well, she's always been a favorite of Tommy's. Sleeps in his room, follows him wherever he goes," she said, watching the cat that was lying in the grass next to Greg.

I nodded, and waved briefly before walking away and back to Greg. "Got them!" I said happily, handing them to Greg. "You almost done here?"

He took another strip and looked up at me. "Last one," he promised, and peeled it off of the window. Putting it in a bag as carefully as he could, he zipped it up and turned back to me.

"Ready?"

….

"Did you finish those yet, Hodges?" I asked, stepping into Hodges lab briefly. He looked up before smiling.

"Ah, yes. The son, Michael?" he asked, holding up one paper. "Matches the fingerprints on the outside of the window." He held up the second paper.

"And the parents?" I asked, sipping the coffee I'd gotten.

"Mother Melinda Herren," he said, shuffling through papers and holding one up. "Matches the DNA you found on the pillow."

"I told you not to run that," I said, frowning. "Possibility of cat hair, remember?"

He shrugged. "And this one is great. Dad Joe Herren, matches blood found on the cat."

I grinned, taking the papers out of his hand and hugging him briefly. "Thank you so much, Hodges!" I grinned, running out of the lab and smirking as Hodges just stood there.

"Hey, someone looks like she got something," Nick noted as I entered the break room.

"Yes," I said happily, setting my coffee down. "Positive match on all three of them. I don't even want to know any bad news right now, just gonna sit and enjoy the victory."

"What victory?" Nick asked, smirking. "Not enough to convict."

I closed my eyes. "Yes, I know. But Brass is bringing the family in."

Nick just shook his head. "You've got enough to hold them, but-"

"La la la la la!" I shouted, sticking my fingers in my ears and closing my eyes. I didn't want to hear it. I pulled my fingers out and picked up the papers and my coffee. "See you later, Nick."

"Bye, I guess," he said, shaking his head.

Walking out of the break room, I had to stop quickly to avoid walking into Greg, who looked just about as happy as I was. "Kid's gonna be okay!" he greeted, taking my coffee and sipping it.

"Ew. Hygiene?"

"What? You brush your teeth, right?" he asked, looking back down at my coffee.

"Yes," I sighed, taking my coffee back and walking down the hall. "To the hospital, right?"

"Yeah," he said, catching up with me. "I'm driving."

"Duh," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Hey, Lexi!"

I turned around at the sound of my name, but closed my eyes in frustration as I saw Tanner. I groaned, thinking he'd made bail. "What?" I spat, handing Greg my coffee so I could cross my arms.

"You up for any visitors?" he asked, smiling enthusiastically.

"No." I snapped, turning to walk away.

"Oh. Well I made bail, so maybe I'll stop by sometime?" he asked, the meaning in his voice apparent.

"You will not," I demanded, stepping closer to him and poking a finger in chest. "You stay the hell away from me. I swear to God, I will personally make sure your ass is locked up for Mrs. Walker's murder-"

"You're not on that case," he said with a laugh. "So you can't, princess."

"Go to hell, Tanner."

I took my coffee from the silent Greg, whose jaw seemed to be clenched in anger. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's get out of here."

"See you soon, Lexi." Tanner's voice called, and I closed my eyes.

It was becoming San Diego all over again.

…

**Okay, did you like it? Thanks so much to reviewers and followers alike, you guys rock!:) **

**Opinions? What are we thinking of Tanner? And the explosion? I try not to make Lexi seem like a victim too much(she got shot last chapter, so I purposely made sure she was okay this chapter.) **

**What about Greg and Lexi's breakfast? I loved writing that part.:) But I have to say that I enjoyed writing about Lexi's allergy to cats the most, that part was kind of funny.:)**

**REVIEW FOR FAST UPDATES!:)) Love you guys!3**


	4. Roomies

**A/N: I don't own CSI. What?! Haha. Enjoy.:)**

"Is he awake yet?" Greg asked the nurse as we approached the curtain that separated Tommy Herren's room from a different little kid. The nurse looked up at us.

"Who?"

"Tommy Herren." I answered, narrowing my eyes.

"No, ma'am. There's only Tammy Herren, the 4 year old girl recovering from an explosion…" she said, looking at me like I was crazy. "She's awake, if that's who you're looking for."

Greg and I exchanged a glance before nodding to her and entering the second half of the room. Sitting up in bed, was indeed a little girl. You could just tell by her softer looking face. Her hair cut resembled a little boy exactly. "Hello," she spoke up. Her voice sounded like a girls.

"Um, hi Tammy," Greg said uneasily, and we shared a look of pure confusion.

"No, it's Tommy," the little girl said, rolling her eyes. "Mommy and Daddy said my new name is _Tommy."_

"Oh," I said softly, looking at the girl. "Why is that your new name?"

"Because I'm the new Tommy," she said simply, smiling and taking a sip of apple juice. "When Tommy went to heaven, Mommy said that I was his replacement."

"Oh my God," Greg whispered, turning away for a second.

"Do, um, do you remember anything, Tommy?" I asked carefully, sitting down in a chair.

"Yes," she said, nodding and frowning. "Mikey opened my window, but I wanted to sleep."

"Okay," I said, writing all of this down quickly. "Anything else?"

"Yes!" she said, looking at me with wide eyes. "He tried to grab me out of bed, but I started to hit and kick him like how we wrestle. Then daddy grabbed me, but I thought he was Mikey, so I bit him." She made a face. "He bled a little. Mommy leaned down by the bed and tried to grab me that way, but I pulled her hair. Then Sierra crawled up there and started scratching them. And that's all I 'member."

She finished and looked at me proudly. "I gots a good memory," she claimed, smiling to herself.

"Yes, you do, Tommy," I said uncertainly, feeling like this entire case had become a whole new level of weird. "Listen, I hope we get to see you soon, but we gotta go, okay?"

She nodded and grinned. "I lost my tooth."

My eyes flew to the top tooth, which was missing from her smile. "Did you now?" I asked, looking over at Greg. "When did you do that?"

"When I bit Daddy," she said simply, looking down. "I feel real bad about that, miss."

"It's okay, Tommy. We'll see you later," I smiled, waving at her as I motioned for Greg to come with me. After taking one last glance at Tammy, he followed me out.

"That's sickening," he said, shaking his head. "Whoever Tommy is, he died, and so the mom tells the little girl she's Tommy? And then what?"

"They stick her in that grandfather clock, think we'll miss it, and then blow the place up. But why'd they want to kill her?" I asked, scratching my head in confusion.

"Maybe she was a bad son," Greg answered, shrugging as we exited the hospital. "Only one way to find out."

"Evidence?"

"Duh."

….

"Mrs. Herren, we've got enough evidence to place you in the middle of the crime," Captain Brass spoke. I sat in the chair next to him, watching her carefully.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Tommy's a strange name for a girl, isn't it?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"It's an original name," she sniffed, looking to the left of the room.

"No, not at all," I answered, leaning back in my chair. "Tammy is the original name of your daughter. Did you not want to change it? Or had you not gotten there yet?"

Her eyes flickered up at me. "Tammy always wanted to be called Tommy, after her younger brother."

"Who fell down a flight of stairs and died from head trauma last year, Mrs. Herren," I said, checking the file. "And Tammy, your daughter? Well, she tells me she's his replacement. And someone had to cut her hair."

The mother was speechless, staring at the table with wide eyes. "And someone had to move her into Tommy and Michael's old room. Not to mention buy her boys clothes and-"

"Shut up!" she sobbed loudly, making me blink in surprise. "I did it, okay?" she growled, glaring at me.

"Care to explain?"

"Tammy and Tommy were twins" she said, wiping her eyes. "When he died, I just…looked at Tammy like Tommy. I figured if I raised her as a boy…she would just sort of become one."

I shook my head at her. "Well, she didn't. And that made you mad. So you stuck her in a clock and tried to blow her up?"

The mother's head turned, looking out the window to where her eldest son sat in the waiting room. "I made Mikey help. Please don't get him in trouble," she whispered, her eyes becoming watery once again. "And my husband, he came up with the idea to stick her in the old clock that used to be in our bedroom. He built the bomb."

Her confession was too much for me. I stood up, cocking my head to the side. "Oh, don't worry Mrs. Herren," I said, pushing my chair in. "You and your husband won't have to deal with making sure Tammy looks like a boy anymore. Prison will distract you."

I gave her one last glare before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I hurried to the break room, hoping Greg had brewed a pot of coffee recently. He was leaning against the counter, clearly haven just gotten there before I had.

"They're sick." He said, shaking his head.

"Way to state the obvious," I breathed, running a hand through my hair and checking my watch.

"Wanna grab breakfast?" Greg asked, like he knew what I was looking at.

I shook my head. "No, I'm tired. But you are my ride home, so it's all up to you…"

He just placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me forwards, towards and into the locker room. He took off his vest, throwing it into his locker along with his gun. I followed suit before stopping to look at him. "What?" he asked, watching me carefully.

"You think Tanner will come?" I whispered, the thought now really hitting me.

He was silent before looking up at me. "No. He's just trying to scare you."

"Yeah, you're right. He's not stupid, he knows if he tries anything his ass is behind bars…" I mumbled, a bewildered feeling crossing me. "Right?"

"Right."

…

"You sure you're okay?" Greg asked me.

"Yeah, I'm totally fine," I reassured him. "Door will be locked, chill."

"Lexi, you have to promise you'll call me if anything's wrong." He said, looking me in the eye.

"Greggo, I promise." I snickered, and he rolled his eyes and looked away. "Thanks though. For the ride. And everything."

He nodded. "Anytime. I'll see you tonight?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Yeah. Bye!" I called, stepping out of his Denali, walking clumsily through the wet grass of my apartment building. I looked inside before opening the door, and saw a very distressed man speaking with the woman who usually sits at the front desk and watches TV. What was her name? Rachel?

"You have to tell me where my son is," he begged, looking around anxiously.

"Sir, I told you. I haven't seen them."

"How can you have not seen them?" he cried, throwing his hands in the air.

"You're looking for Aiden?" I asked loudly, trying to get his attention.

He spun around, his eyes meeting mine. "You know where he is?"

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Jail."

"What?" he roared, looking around the building.

"He shot and killed a teenage girl."

"Thanks for telling me," the man grumbled, before he stormed out of the building and purposely brushed shoulders with me.

"He is one grumpy dude," the lady muttered, returning to her TV set. I stifled a laugh and headed up the stairs to my apartment building. Digging for the key in my pocket, I heard a giggle come from around a corner.

"Hello?" I called out, looking around worriedly. When I got no response, I stuck my key in the door and pushed it open.

There was a brief moment where I held my breath and looked around the apartment, expecting Tanner to jump out any moment like he did in San Diego. When he chased me down for the very last time, when he broke into my apartment and had a temper tantrum, taking it out on all of the old pictures I had painted.

My phone rang, and I jumped. I fumbled to grab it from its holder, and flipped the top open.

"Smith."

"Hey, so glad I got the right number!" a cheery voice said from the other line. I gulped and closed my eyes. "How are you, Lexi?"

"What do you want now, Tanner?" I yelled angrily into the phone.

"I want you back, Lex," he said soothingly, as if he knew what would make me come crawling back to him.

"Not a chance," I hissed, about ready to hang up the phone.

"Okay then," he sighed, as if I was being a pain. "You've decorated well though, Lexi. I love that vase on the kitchen counter. Remember when we bought that at the farmers market?"

My eyes flew to the kitchen counter, where the teal colored vase sat. "Beautiful roses, too. Who gave those to you?"

"Where are you?" I demanded, the feeling of loneliness and desperation washing over me. I walked around the building, kicking open closets and nearly yanked the door handle off my bathroom door.

"Oh, you are so cute when you're angry," he cooed, and I looked out the window. "The vest looks good on you, Lex. So does the messy ponytail. It just screams 'I don't have time to get ready for work because my loser boyfriend picked me up'," he laughed into the phone, as if he was just the funniest thing.

"Where are you, Tanner?" I whispered through clenched teeth. Footsteps sounded through my hallway, such a familiar sound to me. The weight those footsteps had put down, it reminded me of a place, of a time.

San Diego.

"Boo."

His creepy whisper sent chills up my spin, just as my door was kicked open. And in front of me, stood Tanner. Same old weird smile and everything. "Get out." I tried, backing up.

He just chuckled, shaking his head. "We should talk, Lexi," he insisted, shutting the door behind him, although it didn't really shut all the way since he'd gone and broken it.

I should have called Greg. But now it was too late, and if he wanted to talk, we would. "Then sit down, Tanner," I sighed, offering him a seat at my counter as I sat down. "We'll just work things out. Want breakfast?"

"Sure," he answered, nodding and sitting down. I couldn't believe he was falling for this.

I stood up, pulling out the pancake mix. "Blueberry's still your favorite, right?"

"Oh, yes." He said, sounding very happy. I took the box of blueberries out of the fridge, working on cracking eggs into a bowl.

"What do you want to talk about, Tanner?" I asked lightly, pouring the cups of pancake mix into everything and glancing over at him. "It was kind of a rough day at work, so…"

"Why did you leave me, Lex?" he asked bluntly, his eyes begging me to meet them.

"You were cheating on me," I said quietly, stirring the mix together.

"Yes," he admitted. "But I apologized. Why couldn't you accept my apology?"

"Tanner, did you know that you are very good at repeating things?" I asked, feeling like I was talking to a three year old. "When we dated, you turned the TV off at 9:34 every single night, like a repetition."

He laughed. "Yeah, you called me your 'OCD Boyfriend'."

"I did," I said, looking over at him. "Which is why I feel you will repeat what you did to me."

He watched intently as I poured pancake mix into the pan. "And you think your little boyfriend is any better?"

I turned around, leaning against the stove. "He's not my boyfriend." I said coldly, glaring openly at him. "You should know, you watch me enough."

"I saw you kiss him," he snapped as he slammed his hand on the counter. "I miss that between us, Lexi."

"Sorry," I sighed, turning back to my pancake, which needed flipping.

"If you're not dating, why are you together here?" he cried, and I watched as he pulled pictures out his pocket. He laid them out across the counter quickly, and pointed at the first one. "That was a week ago!"

It's a shot of Greg and I, along with Russell. We're standing at the scene of the old couple's murder, and we're all laughing at something. "We were on that case together, with our supervisor."

"What about this then?" he asked worriedly, and pointed at the second one. Greg, holding me steady as we walked out of the house. I'm clutching my stomach.

"How did you get this one?" I whispered, my eyes wide in confusion.

"I followed you," he said simply, shrugging. "But look here! You guys kissing in front of New York New York! And the same night, you guys kissing in his car!"

I stepped away from the pictures. "Please stop following me." I said abruptly. "Get out of my apartment."

He just looked up at me before laughing. "You seem to think I'm just going to skip on out of here," he said, looking at me up and down. "Wrong."

Before I knew it, he had thrown me into a wall, despite the counter that had been separating us. "Please Tanner," I choked out, feeling on the verge of tears. "Leave me alone."

He pressed his lips to mine, and I could feel tears running down my face. I turned my head away, enraging him. "Stop, Alexandra."

The feeling of familiarity took over, and I vowed then that I would not let him do what my father once did to me. "No, Tanner," I growled, now face to face with him. "You stop."

I gave him a swift knee in the groin, causing him to double over in pain. I took the chance to sprint into my bedroom and grab my gun, pointing it at him as he entered. "You won't do this twice, will you?" he whispered as he stepped closer.

"Damn you, Tanner! Stay back!" I yelled, and he just laughed before stepping backwards.

"I'm out, Lexi. But I'll be back." He said, grinning and winking at me before causally walking out of my apartment. I rounded the corner and followed him to the door, making sure he had actually left.

As soon as I heard the footsteps going down the hallway, I collapsed. Tears ran down my face, sobbing being the only thing heard throughout my apartment. I looked back to where I had been pinned against the wall and sobbed harder before I remembered. Greg.

I dialed his number as fast I could, wiping away tears as I heard a groggy, "Sanders."

I sobbed into the other end of the phone as I fought to find the right words. "You said to call if there were any problems," I forced out as I tried in vain to stop crying. "I'm calling."

…

I didn't explain further to Greg because he hung up. At first I'd thought he was going to leave me where I was or something, so I just gave up. I lied down on the ground, my tears now drying up on my face. My frustration level was through the roof. In San Diego, I was strong and independent, never took anyone's crap. But here…it just wasn't like that. I seemed to be finding myself hurt or damaged, which pissed me off.

My door flew open, and I didn't really care at that point. If Tanner was returning to me, he could kill me. I just wanted to be left alone and-

"Lexi?" a voice whispered. I sniffed, and sat up, looking into Greg's concerned face. "What the hell happened?"

I fell into his arms, the tears returning. "He came back, Greg. Tanner came back."

He sighed, resting his chin on my head. "I'll call Brass-"

"No, Greg, he didn't hurt me," I promised through my tears. "He's just so…crazy. He's not Tanner anymore. I tried to reason with him and-"

"Lex," Greg whispered, hugging me tighter. "It's over. He's gone, and we're gonna find him."

"And do what?" I sobbed. "Get him for breaking and entering? That'll get him lots of time in prison."

Greg seemed to contemplate this before sighing.. "You're gonna stay elsewhere," he mumbled, sounding like he was talking to himself instead of me. "Just go in your room and get some clothes, okay?"

I nodded, a certain numbness taking over me. I stumbled into my bedroom, rummaging through my drawers and pulling out clothes to sleep in as well as wear to work that night. After shoving them in a bag, I grabbed my curling iron and makeup bag, throwing them in as well. "Okay," I said quietly, my mind whirling. "I got my stuff."

Greg slid an arm around my wait before walking out of the apartment with me, shutting the door as best as he could behind us. "You okay?" he asked me, now taking the moment to look me over.

"Yes," I said, wiping away the tears on my eyes. "I'm fine, really."

There was silence as he walked me down the stairs, ignoring Rachel at the desk and immediately heading out the door. "I'm sorry all this keeps happening to you."

I was sitting in his Denali, and he had just sat down next to me. "It's not your fault, Greg." I said, shaking my head. "Please don't think it is for any reason."

"The shooting, the explosion, and now this?" he cried, looking over at me. "And no one's to blame?"

I shrugged, sliding down in the seat. "If it weren't for you, I imagine things would be a lot worse." He just smiled to himself, and we pulled into his house's driveway. "You live down the street from me?"

"I guess," he sighed, walking over to the passenger's seat and helping me out. "You hungry?"

"No," I laughed, kissing his cheek. "But that was sweet of you to ask."

He blushed and we walked up his driveway, and I looked around. This was a way nicer neighborhood than my apartment building, why hadn't I looked here?

His house looked brand new. I figured it wasn't, but still. There was an upstairs, but the entire house just looked beautiful. Well, not beautiful, but well-kept. I wanted his house.

"Do you now?" he asked, laughing. I mentally slapped myself.

"Did I say that out loud?" I blushed as I climbed the stairs he was leading me up.

"Yeah," he laughed, and steered me over to a room, with a queen sized bed sitting in the middle of it. "You're sleeping here."

"Okay then?" I laughed nervously, and inhaled the scent. This was his room. "No. You're sleeping here."

"No." he challenged, crossing his arms. "You are."

"It's your room, Greg. I refuse to be a burden." I snapped, glaring at him. "Stay."

I went to walk down the stairs, but he grabbed me around the middle and pulled me back over. "No way. You stay."

There was a moment when we just stared at the bedroom, challenging the other to step inside of it. He finally gave me a push inside before sprinting down the stairs. "Dammit Greg!" I called after him, crossing my arms and standing alone in the room.

I figured I should just deal with it, and sighed as I headed towards the shower.

Stepping into the warm water, I sighed as the feeling of relief finally settled over me. Peace. Greg had given me peace. I continued to wash my hair as I thought back to this morning's incidents. I wanted to hit myself as I remembered doubting Greg coming.

I carefully got out of the shower, drying off and throwing my more or less "modest" pajamas. Long pants with my "Phoenix Crime Lab" shirt that I'd worn countless times back in Arizona. I felt awkward climbing into Greg's bed, and lay awake for a few minutes, thinking back to my prior crime labs.

Arizona. The incredibly hot sun. But my friends. Emerie, who I hadn't spoken to in months but was by far the best friend I'd ever had. Adam, who I loved like a brother. He reminded me so much of Nick it scared me. And Derek, my Supervisor. The guy who had ran me out of Phoenix.

San Diego. Grace, a fellow CSI who tried to seem friendly to me but always told my co-workers nasty things about me. But Ryan, my only true friend in San Diego. The one who had stopped Tanner the first time, when he tried to break into my house. I would have to call him soon, ask him how work was…

And I was asleep.

…

The voices from downstairs were becoming increasingly annoying.

I stepped out of Greg's incredibly comfortable bed, squinting my eyes at his alarm clock and saw that it was 7:00. I groaned and listened as my stomach growled.

I opened the bedroom door and looked down the stairs, the voices becoming louder. I groggily went down the staircase, gripping onto the railing as I did so.

"God, would you just stop worrying?"

I stopped dead in my tracks at the sound of Morgan's voice. What was she doing here?

Greg snorted. "Yeah, like that's easy."

"You're obsessed," she decided.

I took my cue to hurry down the rest of the stairs, and knowing my hair was a complete mess, threw it up in a rather casual ponytail. "Hey!" I said, smiling at the two of them.

"Glad to see your awake," Greg said, relief apparent in his voice. "Tomorrow night you get the couch."

"Hey now, who demanded I sleep in their room?" He shrugged at my question, then looked over to Morgan.

"Tell her, Morgan."

"Tell me what?" I asked, leaning against Greg.

"They got Tanner Durfee," Morgan answered, biting her lip. "He admitted to breaking into your house and throwing you into a wall."

"You told me you didn't get hurt," Greg snapped, turning to look at me.

"I didn't," I said, shaking my head. "It didn't hurt at all."

"You are such a liar-"

"And he's confessed to the murder of Mrs. Walker."

Her sentence struck me to be the weirdest thing I'd ever heard. "What?"

"Yeah, totally caved. So he'll be in prison for a long time…"

"That's great!" I said enthusiastically. "Really fantastic. Means I'm going home in the morning." Greg just kind of looked away, as did Morgan. "You're not telling me something."

"No, it's just something we were going to ask you," Morgan said unsurely. "A request, really."

"We want you to move out of your apartment building," Greg said quietly. "It's dangerous, Lexi."

"As is any house in Vegas," I said with a shrug. "I'm fine there."

"Just…consider it?" Morgan asked, picking up her bag and waving to me. "I'll see you guys in a few hours." We waved to her as she left the house, and I crossed my arms as I looked over at Greg.

"You know I'll be fine." I said, rolling my eyes at him.

"Look, I just wanna make sure, okay? And there are a lot of vacant rental houses around here."

"In the meantime, I'll have to be around my apartment, which according to you, is basically my death sentence." I said, raising my eyebrows at him. "Right?"

"You can always stay with me, Lex," he answered, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

"Just until I move into another apartment?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Just until them." He promised, and I grinned.

"Then we have a deal. Roomies?" I asked, outstretching my hand. He took it, shaking it firmly.

"Roomies."

**Oh gosh, they're roomies?:O**

**Okay, so I really do promise this will be one of the last times for a long while that I make Lexi a victim. I always feel like she's getting hurt, and it irritates me, but I use it to my advantage by developing Greg and her relationship. **

**Oh, and what did you think of the weird ass Tammy/Tommy situation? I kind of liked it, tried to put myself in the twisted minds of the CSI writers. **

**More fluff next chapter, I promise!:)**

**No reviews last chapter though?:( #sadness.**

**Oh wow. I just hashtagged in an author's note. Hot damn am I a rebel.(:**

**REVIEW! If you're going to follow, REVIEW!:D**


	5. Graceful Anger

**A/N: I don't own CSI. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to read!:)**

"Strangulation marks?" Morgan asked, leaning down by the teenage girl's body.

"Liver temp put TOD at 3 hours," Dave said, standing up and pulling out the thermometer.

"Thanks Dave," Russell said, leaning down and looking at the vic. I did the same, eyeing her face. Blonde, very thin. Beautiful. Most likely a popular kid at the high school.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Finn said, running through the door of the high school gym. "What do you got?"

"16 year old girl, Emily Brown," Russell answered. "Her car's still parked in the parking lot."

"That's it? That's all we know?" Finn asked, looking around the high school gym

"Well, Doc Robbins will have to get you the official autopsy," Russell answered. "But we're betting strangulation. Which means finger prints."

I wandered off towards the still pulled down bleachers, having not been pulled up since that evening's basketball game. I carefully walked through the bleachers, examining every piece of trash I could see. Then I spotted it. "I got blood on the bleachers," I called, pulling out the swab as Russell rushed over to see it.

"It's not a splatter," he commented, squinting to see it closer. "More like a smudge."

"Giving the appearance that her head hit the bleachers?" I sighed.

"Hey, check for trauma to the head!" Russell called back to Morgan and Finn, who gave him a weird look but proceeded nonetheless.

"Yeah, we've got bleeding on the back of the head," Finn called back. "With…glass in the wound."

"Makes sense," I muttered, looking through the bleachers and picking up the majority of a broken glass bottle. The Coca-Cola wrapper was still apparent on parts of it. And the top of it was still attached. Which meant DNA.

"Nice spot," Russell sighed, and I swabbed the bottle before setting it in an evidence bag.

"So, what do we have?" Morgan asked as she walked over.

"An old Coca-Cola bottle," I said, showing her the bag. "Is it throwback time or something?"

Russell just kind of laughed. "When I was younger, these were all you drank it out of. I'll bet he bought it from a store, which like you said, was having a throwback sale and the company reissued the glass bottle editions."

"So check the local stores for having a throwback selection?" I guessed, and glanced at Morgan. "Then get receipts?"

"I suppose," she said, narrowing her eyes at the bottle. "See if you can get any DNA first."

"Of course," I said, nodding.

"Where's my baby?!" a voice shrieked, running into the gym and looking straight at the body. The woman was young, just a little older than me. "Emily!"

Finn luckily held her back from contaminating the evidence as we rushed over, Morgan assisting her as Russell ordered to get the body taken back to the lab, since we were done looking at it.

"Hey, ma'am, you gotta calm down," I pleaded, looking at the mother's tear-stained face.

"Is that my daughter?" she sobbed. "Just let me look at her."

"Not right now, Mrs. Brown," I sighed. The mother stopped moving and just stared at me.

"_Not now_?" she whispered, glaring at me. "My daughter has been murdered and you're telling me I can't see her _right now_?!"

"Just please wait until we get the body back to the crime lab, then wait for an autopsy report. After that, then you can see here." I promised, looking into the woman's tear stained eyes that were now full of rage.

"You don't know what it feels like," she hissed, stepping back from Morgan and Finn. "To have your only child killed and not get to say goodbye to them."

"You will get to, Mrs. Brown," I sighed, running a hand through my hair impatiently. "I promise."

"I hope your children are murdered, and you can't see their bodies," she said harshly. Her words were sudden, and pretty much hit me like a ton of bricks. Before I could react, she turned on her heel and stomped away from the scene, leaving all of us to turn around and stare at the teenage girl.

"Sometimes, I really hate dealing with the public," I breathed, watching as her body was covered up with a white sheet.

"Distraught mothers are the worst," Finn commented, patting my shoulder as the stretcher was wheeled away. My eyes stayed on the spot where it had been though, and I couldn't get myself to move them.

"Ready to get these samples back to the lab?" Russell asked, holding them in his hands.

"Last one to the lab has to give them to Hodges," Morgan yelled over her shoulder as she walked out of the building. I smirked, and snatched the swabs and plastic bags out of Russell's hands.

"I'll do the dirty work I guess," I huffed, and watched as he and Finn peeled out of the gymnasium, leaving me there alone to stare at the walls. They were lined with banners, all for different sporting events.

"What happened here?" a voice asked me, and I spun around to see a confused looking teenage boy. He appeared to be 17, 18 maybe.

"A murder," I answered shortly, knowing I couldn't give away too much information.

"I can't believe it," he groaned, leaning against the gyms door frame and closing his eyes. "Emily's mom called me and told me to get my ass down here. And this is what I show up to."

"I'm sorry," I sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder gently. "Did you know her well?"

"She was my girlfriend," he sniffed, looking away from me. "We even went to the game together tonight. I tried to get her to leave, but she said she was going to help Bryce McLaughlin."

His toned was borderline disgusted. "Who's that?" I asked, thinking back to the bleachers and the DNA swabs I was holding in my hands.

"Class president," he said, rolling his eyes. "Real show-off. Always puts on the snack-bar, makes the purchases and stuff. Tonight's theme was 50s night-"

"With throwback soda bottles," I muttered to myself.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

I ignored his question. "You got Bryce's number?"

He chuckled aloud, shaking his head. "Get it from the main office, lady."

I nodded, practically running out of the gym with the DNA and evidence in my hands.

…

"Hodges, if there was ever going to be a time where I would be a kiss ass, this would be the time." I said, throwing the swabs onto the table.

"You want me to run these before anyone else's case," he replied, looking up from what he was doing.

"Yes," I admitted. "Please."

"Sure," he said, shrugging and nodding. "On one condition."

"Why is there always a condition?" I groaned.

"Do you want your DNA done of not?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Yes," I sighed. "What's the condition?"

"I need some coffee," he said innocently.

"Easy," I said, nodding. "I'll be back in a minute-"

"I want some of Sanders coffee."

"You're sending me on a suicide mission, Hodges," I said irritably, but walked out of the room anyways.

I tip-toed over to the coffee pot, freshly filled with Blue Hawaiian coffee. I reached up into cupboard, stealthily grabbing a coffee mug and pulling it down. I took once glance around, and seeing no one was looking, poured some into the mug quickly.

I smugly put the coffee pot back and walked across the break room, headed for the lab. I had escaped stealing Greg's coffee without him finding out. And just as I was almost to the lab, I felt the mug lightly taken from my hands.

I looked up quickly, seeing Greg holding the coffee and smirking. "Why do you keep doing that?" I complained, putting my hands on my hips.

He just laughed and sipped the coffee. His eyes widened, and I took off walking down the hallway, him following me tightly. "You stole some of my coffee!" he accused.

"Not for myself," I sighed, turning around to face him. "It's for Hodges." And with that, I smiled and took the mug of coffee from his hands, continuing my walk down the hallway.

"What, are you into Hodges now?" he asked, his voice tinted with disgust.

"Maybe," I hinted, watching as his face went red.

"Hodges is nobody, Lexi! How can you-"

"Greg. I'm getting him coffee so he'll finish my fingerprints first." I interrupted, smirking at him. "And since when did you ever care about who I was dating?"

He blushed even more, and followed me into the lab as I handed Hodges his coffee. "Thanks, Lex," he commented offhandedly.

"Don't call me that." I snapped, looking over at the DNA. "Anything yet?"

"Give it an hour," he said, looking at me with that annoying expression that was just kind of like "seriously?"

"Okay, your hour starts now." I said, checking my watch. "Because if I risked my life getting Greg's special coffee just for you to not get my DNA results done-"

"Lexi!" Sara's voice called from down the hall. "Someone's on the phone for you!"

"Hodges, I'll be back," I said, glaring at him. "Get it done."

"Yes ma'am," he sighed, and I thought I saw Greg smirk at him out of the corner of my eyes.

"Yeah?" I asked, sticking my head in the break room, where Sara had the phone speaker covered.

"Someone's looking to talk to you," she said, handing me the phone.

"Hello?" I answered dryly.

"This is Lexi Smith?" a voice asked from the other end.

"Yeah, this is she. Can I ask whose calling?"

"This is Doug Moser," said a relieved male voice. "You saved my family and I a few weeks back."

…

I straightened my nice work jeans and fancy blouse, eyeing myself in Greg's mirror. Dinner with the Mosers. Tonight.

"You know, I initially planned to throw that old thing out of here," Greg commented quietly from the doorway. "Came with the house. And why would I need a full sized mirror, you know?"

I nodded. "Sometimes, I wonder if you've even looked in the mirror," I said playfully, looking over at him and grinning.

"Now why would you say that?" he asked, giving me a shocked expression as he came up behind me, examining himself in the large mirror.

I turned around to face him. "You've got dirt," I said softly, licking my thumb and wiping it away. "And your hair's out of shape."

I brushed away the spare strand and smiled at him. "I haven't even gotten dressed for work yet though," he defended, smiling wryly at me. "Sorry if I'm not looking my best."

I rolled my eyes. "Greggo, you always look your best."

"If you hadn't called me that, I would kiss you right now."

His words sunk into my skin, and I blushed. I stood on my toes and kissed him on the cheek lightly. "Good enough?" I asked, making him blush as well.

"When are we gonna look for that apartment of yours?" he asked, rolling his head in a circle and popping his neck. "The couch sucks."

"You _could _kick me out of your bed, like a normal guy would," I said, walking down the stairs.

"But then I'd feel bad!" he said, hoping his excuse would work on me.

"Fine. This Friday, on our day off. That's when we'll go apartment hunting," I said to him, and he frowned.

"We don't have to go that soon," he mumbled, looking away.

"I'll see you after my dinner, okay? Be home around 8."

"And then what? Sleep for 2 hours and go to work?" he called as I exited the house.

"Yeah!" I yelled back, getting in my car and waving. I could feel him watching me as I drove away.

_He would have kissed me. _The butterflies in my stomach were all having seizures at the thought, even if Greg and I had already kissed. Twice. But so far there'd just been a lot of tension, a lot of thinking going on. He and I both knew we had to decide whether we'd risk our jobs or not.

I pulled onto the side of the road, right next to the front yard that belonged to the Moser family. I shut off the car quietly, picking up my purse and walking up their driveway. The house was big, probably big enough for each of the four children to have their own room.

I knocked on the door, and almost immediately it opened up. There, in front of me, stood a tall man, whom I recognized as the father. "I'm Doug," he said, grinning, and outstretched his hand to mine. I shook it, smiling broadly.

"Lexi," I answered, and he opened the door up all the way as I gratefully stepped out of the cold November chill.

"Martha, Lexi's here!" the man called, motioning for me to follow him. I walked behind him as we entered the large dining room.

I was embraced in a body-crushing hug, and I was surprised. A woman pulled away, her watery eyes and smile telling me she was emotional. "It's so nice to finally speak to you, Lexi," she breathed, wiping away a tear. "You have no idea how grateful my family is."

She had me sit down in a chair and poured me a glass of fancy looking wine. I sipped on it, pleased with the sweetness. "Thank you, Mrs. Moser, but I don't really see what I did," I admitted nervously. "Mr. Moser was still shot."

Mrs. Moser's eyes darted to her husband, who was looking over at me with a mildly surprised expression. "As were you," he pointed out.

"Which was completely my fault," I explained, looking at them both. "I didn't call for backup like I should have. If I had, it's possible that you could have escaped bullet-free, Mr. Moser."

He waved it away dismissively. "No, you're a hero, Lexi. If you hadn't found us, we'd all be dead."

I blushed, and just as I was about to say something, I could hear footsteps running down the stairs. I turned around to see a boy and a girl. The boy was probably 11, the girl around 8. "Oh, kids, come and meet Lexi, the young lady who saved us!" Mrs. Moser called.

I felt overwhelmed. I was no hero, and if anything, I had screwed everything up. "Hi!" the girl chirped, sticking out her hand out to me. "I'm Payton."

"Nice to meet you." I answered, smiling at the young girl.

"And I'm Nate," the boy said coolly, shaking my hand as well.

"Maggie! Anthony! Get down here!" the mother barked, and I resisted a laugh.

Racing down the stairs, a boy and girl aggressively shoved one another out of the way. "These are my last two, my daughter Maggie and son Anthony," she added, and they both waved at me.

"Nice to meet you guys," I said happily.

"Dinner time!" she called, and the family quickly filed their seats, but the oldest son held out a chair for me. I sat down, smiling warmly at the family who seemed to have recovered well in 2 weeks.

Mrs. Moser brought out the steak, plopping a piece down on everyone's plate as a bowl of green beans were passed around, along with the basket full of bread. It felt like the family dinner I had longed for my entire life but never received. "So, Lexi," Mr. Moser said as he hungrily cut up his steak. "How are you recovering from _your _bullet?"

"Oh, quite well," I said, swallowing my bread. "I was back to work in 3 days, actually."

"And everything's been well since then?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Very well." I answered confidently, and could see the teenage girl roll her eyes.

"No attitude, Margaret." Mrs. Moser said sternly, leaving the teenager to not reply.

"Maggie's upset with us because we won't let her date this boy she goes to school with," Mr. Moser explained to me. "He's 3 years older than her."

Greg was 4 years older than me, yet we got along quite well. "I see," I said awkwardly, looking over to Anthony who was sitting next to me, a bored expression apparent across his face.

"He's very nice," Maggie said quietly, now setting her fork down.

"He's too old for you, Margaret." Her mother sighed. She looked over at me. "You understand, don't you Lexi? I mean, how much older than you is your boyfriend?"

"Oh I don't really have one," I said quickly, my eyes flickering to where the two youngest children watched intently. "But my last one was the same age as me." Tanner.

"See, Maggie? We don't have a problem with you dating, just within the appropriate age range is all." Mrs. Moser said happily, giving her daughter a fake smile.

"What about that young man that was your partner?" Mr. Moser asked, looking at me skeptically. "Payton here tells me he helped you out of the building."

I cleared my throat. "We're friends," I said shortly, setting my knife down. "Greg and I are very good friends, but not dating."

"I see," Mrs. Moser said, looking over at Maggie again. "And how much older than you is Greg?"

"Um, 4 years," I said, looking around the table. The two youngest kids were whispering each other, and Anthony was texting on his phone. Maybe they weren't the perfect family after all.

"And see, Margaret; Lexi here can restrain from having sex with this boy!" her mother snapped. I felt thoroughly confused and embarrassed. Maggie had stopped speaking a while ago, yet her mother still picked on her.

"Please, stop," Maggie pleaded. She was blushing wildly.

"Maggie's pregnant, Lexi," her mother announced, only keeping her eyes on Maggie. "She's thrown her whole life out the window, and at age 16. Waste of talent."

"Stop." Maggie snapped, glaring openly at her mother. "Stop trying to humiliate me, Mom. It won't make the baby disappear."

There was a cold silence, and I checked my watch. "I hate to be a pest, Mrs. Moser, but I really have to go home," I said, standing up. Anthony stared forward at the wall, and I felt a sympathetic pain in my chest. He didn't ask for a dysfunctional family like this, and he certainly didn't want it.

"Of course, I understand," she said, watching me leave.

"Thank you for dinner though. It was delicious."

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Bye Maggie."

I left the house quickly, feeling like my words to the teenager had just hung in the air. Mrs. Moser was a bully. Her daughter screwed up, a lot. But so what? Couldn't she just be supportive?

My thoughts were interrupted as my cell phone went off. "Smith."

"We need everyone here, stat. We've got a quadruple homicide, and even if I've got Nick and Sara on it, we're short on lab techs." Russell's voice was gruff and brief, sounding urgent.

I sighed, hanging up the phone and getting into my car.

…

"How did your dinner go?" Greg asked me as I entered the door into the crime lab, heading for DB's office.

"Awful," I groaned, and he just laughed.

"Why's that?" he asked, but I didn't get a chance to answer him.

"Lexi, I'm gonna need you and Greg at the scene," he sighed, appearing confused and annoyed. "But you're going together. Process the outside together, everything."

"What about my other case?" I asked, agitated. I wanted to find out who Emily Brown's killer was, and so badly.

"It's on the side," Russell said distractedly.

"Why are we going as a team?" Greg asked, his eyes flickering over to where I was more or less pouting.

"Killer came back, about 3 minutes after the responding officer showed up. He's dead now." He said simply, and I closed my eyes. Great, a potential serial killer running around shooting officers. Dandy.

"Let's go then," I said, dragging Greg along with me to leave the distressed Russell alone. As we hurriedly put our vests on and grabbed our guns, Hodges leaped in front of me.

"I have your results!" he said, waving papers in my face.

"Great," I grumbled. "As soon as this huge homicide scene is over, I'd be glad to look at them."

Hodges just smirked. "Oh, the pains of working in the field," he sighed, and I shoved him out of my way.

"Shouldn't have stood in front of her," Greg pointed out to him before catching up with me. "Wanna tell me how your dinner went?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"I already told you, it went awful," I answered, deciding to the take the stairs to the second floor of the parking garage.

"Why?" he asked, fighting to keep up with me.

"Parents think I'm some superhero," I said, flinging my cars door open. He jumped into the passenger seat and shot me a weird look. "What?"

"You're angry," he noted, and there was a brief silence.

"Yeah," I muttered finally, looking over at him. "I wanted to finish my case."

"You'll get to," he assured me. "The sooner we get this one over with, the sooner you can finish your case."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know why they need us on this flipping case," I said. "They have Morgan, Nick, Sara, Finn, _and _Russell."

"Guess we won't know till we get there," Greg sighed, leaning back in his seat.

"How much longer then?" I asked, not wanting to take my eyes off the road.

"GPS says 20 minutes," he said, rubbing his temples. "Lexi?"

"Yeah?" I asked, taking the turn as the GPS instructed me to.

"You don't have to move out really soon if you don't want to," he admitted, watching our GPS. "Really. I'll sleep on the couch forever if you want."

"If I stay any longer, you're sleeping in your own bed." I said, honking angrily at a slow car in front of us.

The car didn't speed up at all, and I think it began to go at an ever slower pace. "It's Vegas," Greg laughed. "Don't think that the drivers will listen to you."

"Hey, the speed limit's 60, not 25, dumbass!" I yelled, sticking my head out the window and honking once more.

Greg erupted in laughter, and even I chuckled a little bit, before the car in front of us stopped altogether. "What's he doing?" Greg asked, and I noticed his hand softly land on his gun.

There was a long wait before a young woman stepped out, her slender figure immediately recognizable to anyone who knew her. I felt my eyes widened in surprise as she walked towards us, her San Diego vest tightly zipped up, sunglasses covering her eyes as always, even if it was like eleven o clock at night.

Grace was back.

**Hey!:) Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You are all amazing!:D **

**So yeah, opinions I want to hear about this chapter if you don't mind: **

**-Lexi's new case(you like? I do!) **

**-Dinner with the Mosers(by request of lotzalove, when she reviewed Chapter 2. Sorry if it wasn't what you had expected but good news is that Maggie will come back sometime later.)**

**-Greg and Lexi's convo in front of the mirror?! (MAJOR CUTENESS! I love them so much3)**

**-Lexi stealing Greg's coffee(fun scene to write, I love making fun of Hodges.)**

**-Lexi being all pissed. (That one was kind of hard to write though. Because she just doesn't seem like an angry person, you know?)**

**-AND GRACE RETURNING!:D **

**Okay so about the above^^ I wanted to bring the San Diegoers back into the story, give a little background on Lexi's past crime labs and stuff. You all remember Grace being briefly mentioned when Lexi is A) talking about the cheap GPS she gave her and B) when she's sleeping in Greg's bed and she's thinking. Do you like it? Yes? No?**

**REVIEW EVEN IF YOU HATED THIS CHAPTER! AND REVIEW IF YOU LOVED IT! **

**IT HELPS ME UPDATE!:D**

**Sorry to ramble and waste your time:P**


	6. The Orchard

**A/N: Umm, so yeah, I dot own CSI. Shocking.:O**

"What are you doing here?" I asked bluntly as Grace walked over to my window, lying her head down on it and smiling up at me.

"Did you not read your case file again, Lexi?" she asked sweetly, and I shook my head in response.

"Our supervisor sent us out here without any information besides it was a quadruple homicide and that he killed the responding officer," I answered, and was met with a disapproving frown.

"If you had gotten to read the case file, you would know that Louis Dayton is _our _man." She said coldly, looking at me hard, with her contact-created illusion of bright green eyes.

"And why's that?" I asked, crossing my arms and raising my eyebrows. "He's in Vegas, Grace."

"He came from San Diego," she said calmly. "It's a conjoined case. He killed 3 women before he came here."

"I see." I said, glaring up at her. "I supposed Gove is with you?"

"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes. "And so is Ryan."

"Great," I sighed, looking over at Greg. "This is Greg. Greg, this is Grace."

They waved awkwardly, and of course Grace made hers overdramatized and flirtatious. "It's good to see you again, Lexi."

With those words, she walked back to her car and got in, speeding off towards the right location. "I don't think our stop in the middle of the road was exactly legal," Greg muttered, and I sighed.

"If only that was the biggest of our problems."

We followed Grace out, since she now seemed to know exactly where she was headed. Soon she pulled into an extremely long driveway, and I groaned. If they didn't have the murder weapon already, this crime scene would be a pain in the ass to process. "This looks challenging."

I eyed Greg. "Way to sound positive," I said, parking the car and stepping out.

"It's my job!" he insisted, grinning goofily at me. We made our way towards the house, Grace leading the way as she always used to.

"Any more excitement in San Diego?" I asked her, gazing around the house as we entered it.

"Not at all," she said, shaking her head. "Not since that incident with you and-"

"Hey, about time you guys got here!" Nick called, and I could feel Greg's skeptical look burning holes in my head.

"Sorry," I apologized shortly. "Where do we start? And what's the story?"

"4 women killed, all stabbed to death. Liver temps match up with a mutual TOD of about an hour ago."

"You two take the orchard," Sara said, coming out from a room and pointing to Greg and I. "And Grace and Ryan will take the backyard."

"What are we even looking for?" Greg asked, glancing between Grace and I nervously.

"A knife, Greg. They were stabbed, so a knife," Sara grumbled, sounding annoyed as she walked away.

I gestured for Greg to follow me into the large orchard, and we stepped outside of the house and into the eerily silent night. "Who's Grace?" he asked, and although I would have had to shine a flashlight in his face to see, I was positive he was raising his eyebrows at me.

"Ex-coworker from San Diego," I huffed, pointing my flashlight along the ground and scanning for anything to shine.

"You hate her?" he asked, pointing his own flashlight into the trees.

"Is it that obvious?"

He chuckled. "You don't really hide your hatred that well, Lex. But what about this Ryan guy Sara mentioned?"

"Another ex-coworker of mine," I said softly, already missing my friend. "He's cool. But how did Sara know him and Grace-"

"Ten bucks says she was on the phone with them when they were at the airport," he said, stopping abruptly.

"What?" I asked, and he cupped a hand over my mouth. My breath caught, and I listened carefully. Far in the distance, there were feet stepping onto leaves, the crunching loud and overwhelming.

"Just stay quiet," he muttered quietly in my ear. "I don't think he's going in our direction."

I nodded, and heard the crunching come closer to us. I shook my head now, letting Greg know he had guessed wrong. I pulled out my gun slowly, ready for wherever the hell this guy was in the pitch black dark of the night. "Nice to see you." A deep voice said, nearly making me jump out of my skin.

We remained silent, and the voice chuckled. "Didn't they warn you about the officer? And you two…well, this is going to be fun, you're not even cops."

I couldn't locate his voice, my head was spinning too fast. Greg was focused, I could tell by his uneven breathing. "Boo."

They was a strangled yelp, and Greg shoved me away. I fell into the leaves, and pointed my gun at the man. He had Greg on the ground, and the glint of his knife gave him away.

I fired out 6 shots, watching the man fall limp onto the ground. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and crawled over to where Greg lied. He groaned, clutching his upper arm in pain. I clicked on my flashlight, it being my only source of light, and shone it over him.

He had a stabbing wound in his arm, and I fumbled to grab my radio. "Control, control. This is CSI Smith, I've got CSI Sanders at the 4 play homicide scene, I need paramedic's stat!"

My breathing itself became shallow, and I looked back to Greg. He was still holding his arm. "Damn you, Greg," I muttered, tears flowing down my face. "Why did you push me out of the way?"

"You're safe, right?" he moaned, reaching out and grabbing my arm desperately. "Did he get you?"

"Greg, I'm completely fine, just-"

"CSI Smith, this is control, paramedics are on their way. Arrival time approximately 10 minutes."

"Did you hear that?" I asked, giving him a watery smile although I didn't know if he could see it. "The paramedics are on their way, Greg. They're coming to help you."

"Good," he grunted, trying to sit up with his other arm. "Because this hurts like hell."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Talk to me, Greg. You have to keep talking." I demanded, brushing his hair away from his face.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch," he said, laughing hoarsely at the end. "I can still take it."

"You got stabbed, and you're worried about the damn sleeping arrangements?" I chuckled, a tear accidentally falling onto his vest.

"It's important," he insisted. "You don't have to move out, Lex. You should stay."

"Well someone's gonna have to take care of you," I breathed, lying down in the dried up leaves next to him.

"No, I'll take care of myself," he promised, taking the hand that was covered in his blood and touching my wrist briefly.

"That's really sweet, Greggo," I smiled. "And gross. But still sweet."

He placed his hand back on his arm. "I wish I could see you, Lexi." He muttered softly, and I rolled over.

Clicking the flashlight on, I shined it on me by placing it above my head. He glanced over at me uneasily. "Better?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You look kind of creepy."

I giggled, falling back down next to him. "I still think you're pretty awesome."

"I got shanked, and that's what you say?" he asked, nudging my foot with his.

I blushed through the darkness. "I suck at situations like these."

"Same here," he sighed, and suddenly, sirens could be heard flying though the orchard.

I stood up and waved the ambulance over, to which yelling could be heard coming out of the house. Why hadn't they come when I fired my gun? "Greg, you're gonna be fine." I assured him as he was loaded into the ambulance on a gurney. I stepped into it with him, and wondered if this was how he felt when they loaded me up.

"Of course I will be," he said, nodding to me. "You're here."

I blushed and watched as he removed his hand so the paramedics could work on his stabbing wound. They addressed it the best they could for the time being and drove out of the orchard. Greg just stared at the ceiling of the ambulance, not saying anything.

"You okay?" I whispered, touching his hand softly. He nodded.

"I'll be fine, Lexi," he promised, and closed his eyes. "I'll see you when I wake up?"

"Stay awake, Greg. Please," I begged, running a hand down his cheek.

"Hey, Lexi, calm down. You're not the one who got stabbed, remember?" he coughed out, and I wiped away my tears quickly.

"You're right," I said, nodding. "I'm a crybaby, you're the one who should be crying."

"When I get out of the hospital, we're going for beers."

And he fell asleep.

….

I had been staying by Greg's bed for hours now, after they got him fixed up completely. I was reading my book as I usually did when I was bored.

"Can you pull your nose out of that for a second?" a voice asked from the doorway. I looked up, seeing Nick standing there.

"Oh, it's you." I said distastefully. I was still upset with him and Sara not even hearing the gun shots.

"Yeah, it's me," he sighed, sitting down next to me and watching Greg.

"He's going to be fine," I said quietly, watching the slow up and down of his chest.

"That's good to hear," Nick said, nodding. "But I want to apologize, for not hearing the gunshots and not being there when you needed me."

"What if he hadn't made it?" I whispered, my eyes locked onto Greg's sleeping form. "What if he'd died?"

"I hate that idea as much as you do, Lexi! So don't even start to try and blame me for it," he snapped, glaring at me.

"This could have been way less worse if you had just heard the obvious shots-"

"You're going to blame me for not hearing something?"

"Shut up!" Greg's voice snapped. I looked to his bed, where he was wide awake, glaring at the two of us. "Lexi, quit blaming Nick. Nick, chill out."

"Sorry," I mumbled, and looked down at the ground. "I shouldn't have blamed you, Nick."

"Sorry for yelling at you," he said, but looked over at Greg. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Now that there's peace? I'm feeling a lot better." He answered, leaning back in his bed.

"They said you'll be out of here tomorrow," I said happily, reaching out and touching his hand carefully.

"Really?" he asked, grinning.

"Yep. And we're still on for beers, right?" I asked, giggling.

"'Course," he said, smiling. "But um, did you guys get anywhere on the case?"

I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair, looking at Nick pointedly. "Gonna have to ask him," I sighed.

"Dude's dead," Nick said simply, shrugging. "Not much else to the case."

"What about the CSI's from San Diego?" Greg asked. I looked at Nick, not even knowing the answer to that question.

"They're headed back to San Diego tomorrow," he said with a satisfied grin. "They're demanding to see you, Lexi."

"Don't blame them," I said with a smirk, but then sat up in my chair. "But Ryan's with them, isn't he?"

"Ryan Houghton? Yeah, I actually passed him in the hall coming up here. He said he was visiting Grace."

"Grace? What happened to Grace?" I asked, a feeling of worry taking over me. I hated Grace, but I didn't want her dead.

Nick chuckled to himself. "Cut her head when she tripped over a tree root," he said, shaking his head. "She was running to the gunshots with Ryan."

My eyes widened, and without saying anything, I hurried down the hallway. "I'm looking for Grace Mora." I told the lady at the front desk. She looked up at me, arching an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Room 203, but she's being released in 20 minutes," she said, looking at me with a bewildered expression.

"Thanks," I said, walking briskly down the hallway. I stopped as soon as I saw her room number, and hurried in. She was sleeping, her head wrapped slightly. And sitting next to her was Ryan, holding her hand.

"Lexi," he breathed, standing up and hurrying to hug me. I missed Ryan. He had been my rock, and as I've already said, he saved me from Tanner the first time.

"I've missed you," I said awkwardly, pulling away from him.

"You're alright?" he asked, running his hands down my face.

"Woah, I'm fine here. Grace is the one who's-"

"Getting discharged in 20 minutes. That guy from your lab though, is he gonna be okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Greg? Yeah, he'll be totally fine," I reassured him, smiling.

"Has Tanner shown up here?" he questioned me seriously.

"No," I lied. "Haven't heard from him."

"That's great!" he exclaimed. He leaned closer to me and whispered in my ear, "Grace and I are getting married, Lex."

"You are?" I asked, shock filling up my head. I knew they'd been dating but…marriage?

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, smiling broadly. "You're invited, of course. It'll probably be in the next 6 months, Grace is rushing to make plans already."

I laughed nervously, this being typical Grace. "Good to see you, Smith." A voice said loudly from the doorway, and I spun around to see Gove, my ex-supervisor.

"Wish I could say the same, Gove," I sighed, looking Adam hard in the eyes.

"Enjoying Vegas? Enough action for you?" he said gruffly.

"Plenty," I answered, pursing my lips.

"Your supervisor tells me that you shot down our suspect," he snapped, sitting down next to Grace's bed.

"I had no choice," I responded. "He stabbed a fellow CSI."

"I was in your lab today, Smith," Gove mused, watching Grace's heart monitor. "One of the lab techs…Mr. Hodges?"

"What about him?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"He says you would be very upset about Mr. Sanders," he said casually. "Since you're in a romantic relationship with him. I don't think Undersheriff Ecklie knows about this, does he?"

"CSI Sanders and I are not in a romantic relationship," I sneered, shaking my head at him. "You don't know anything."

"Why would lab tech Hodges lie?" Gove asked innocently.

"Hey, Gove? I suggest you shut the hell up." I said through gritted teeth.

"Lexi?" a voice asked from behind me.

I turned around to see Nick standing there. "Yeah, I'll be there in just a minute, Nick."

"CSI Stokes?" Gove asked, standing up from the chair and getting a good look at Nick.

"Yeah. You're Supervisor Gove," he said, looking at him uneasily.

"Correct. Are Mr. Sanders and Miss Smith here in a relationship?" he asked nosily. I just stared at him, surprised he would just be so blunt and up front about it.

"No," Nick answered confidently. "But it has nothing to do with this investigation."

"I see," Gove said, looking disappointed. "But don't worry, Smith. I'll be checking up on you."

"Yeah, have fun with that," I snarled, walking out of the room and brushing shoulders with Nick, who followed me out.

"He looks like a ball of fun!" Nick commented, walking with me back to Greg's room.

"He's an ass," I said harshly. "He wants to make my life hell as much as he can."

"Holds a grudge for something?" he guessed, and I stopped outside Greg's door so he wouldn't hear.

"Yes. When you shoot your bosses daughter, it pisses him off," I said quietly, my eyes darting back to where Greg was lying in the bed, examining the book I'd been reading.

"How'd you shoot her?" Nick asked under his breath.

"She shot at Gove. She was already a suspect in a murder, tried to kill her dad when we came to get her." I explained before stepping into the room.

"This book is crap," Greg sighed, tossing me my favorite book, "Saving Zoe".

"To a guy," I muttered, making sure the pages weren't bent or anything.

"It must have come straight out of the teen section at Barnes and Noble," he laughed, fist-bumping with Nick. Guys.

"So what if it did? I like it," I said as I stuck the book in my purse.

"You bought a book about emotional distress," Greg noted, crossing his arms. "Come on."

"What?" I asked, blushing in embarrassment. I liked that book.

"How did things go with your buddy Ryan?" Greg asked, looking over at his heart monitor and kind of grimacing.

"Fine," I said shortly, smiling at him with sincerity.

"Yeah, uh-huh. Have you slept at all?" he demanded to know, eyeing me.

"Of course," I said, scoffing. "This chair is very comfortable."

"Go home, Lexi," Greg chuckled, but then looked at me seriously. "I mean it. Go home and sleep in a real bed."

"Fine," I grumbled, and stood up.

"Bye Nick, Bye Greggo!"

"Hey!" Greg called after me, but I just smirked and walked out of the hospital.

….

The door swung open widely, and I groggily opened my eyes. Standing there, fighting laughter, was Morgan.

"Hi," I said wearily, brushing some of my hair out my eyes.

"Do you even know what day it is?" she giggled.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "I came home a few hours ago. It's like what…2 in the morning on a Sunday?"

"Try 5 pm on a Sunday," she laughed, examining Greg's bedside table.

"What?" I yelled, sitting up in bed. I ran to the mirror, my mascara and eyeliner a shitty mess, and my hair looked like someone clawed the crap out of it. I groaned, realizing I was probably supposed to be at work right now.

"Morgan, just give me 5 minutes, I'll be ready," I promised, heading for bags which were set in the corner of Greg's room.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, laughing slightly.

"I gotta get to work, right?" I reminded her, throwing a shirt to the side.

"No," she said, like it was obvious. "You have today off, remember?"

I turned around, sitting down on the carpet. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she sighed, and raised her eyebrows at me. "Nick's on his way with Greg."

"Oh God," I yelped, running down the stairs. She followed me down, wearing her usual worried expression.

"What are so upset about?" she asked, a confused look crossing over her features.

"Gotta clean the house!" I called back to her, wiping down the kitchen counters. "Cover your eyes, it's a filthy mess!"

She started to laugh slightly, before reaching out and grabbing my hand, which was furiously washing dishes with a sponge. "Lexi, Greg's house looks _fine_." She said, looking me in the eye.

"Says you!" I exclaimed, yanking away from her grip and finishing the pan I was washing. "Greg's got to come home to his house a complete disaster- oh my God, he's going to want food!"

"No, he's fine!" she shouted, stepping in front of the fridge and crossing her arms. "You will not make anything at all, Lexi. I will call in pizza, and that's final."

I sighed, glaring at her. "Fine. Let me get my checkbook," I said lightly, running for my purse, which was in Greg's room. She chased me up the stairs, diving in front of me for my purse.

"You're not paying!" she yelled, standing up and holding the purse above her head.

"That's low," I mumbled, not even trying to jump. "Use your height to your strength."

"That's exactly what I'm doing," she declared, and pushed me out of the room, shutting the door behind us. "No go downstairs, sit down, and _relax._"

The doorbell rang, and we exchanged a glance before I sprinted down the stairs. "I will get it!" I screeched, her tightly behind me. I flung the door open, grinning victoriously. "Yes! I win!"

Morgan came up behind me, breathing hard. "Did you run track?" she asked through heavy breaths.

"No, but maybe I should have," I said, thinking about how well that would have gone over. "You only made me run up and down the stairs twice."

"Um, hello?" a voice from the door asked, and we both turned to see Greg and Nick looking at us expectantly.

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled, opening the door all the way. "My bad."

"Pizza's for dinner!" Morgan called, walking to the house phone quickly.

"I'm really sorry," I apologized. "I was going to make you a nice meal, but Morgan insisted that I let her order pizza. And she made sure I didn't clean either."

"You're keeping her around, right?" Nick muttered to Greg under his breath.

"Well, hurry up, it's freezing outside," I grumbled, ushering them inside.

"Pizza's on its way," Morgan announced proudly.

"What about desert?" Greg whined, and I smirked.

"There's pudding in the fridge." I said smugly, sticking my tongue out at Morgan.

"Um, why?" she asked, nearly laughing at me.

"I wanted pudding when I got home...but then it didn't sound good and I just…left it alone, I guess." I said, confused at my own actions.

"Pudding and Pizza?" Nick asked raising his eyebrows and sitting down on the couch. "Poetic dinner?"

"Not intentionally," I promised. Greg hurried to sit down in his armchair, leaning back and watching the basketball game with Nick.

"Don't forget shift in 6 hours, Nick," Morgan called to Nick, who just waved her away as he watched the game. "Which means no drinking!"

"Sucks for you guys," I sighed, pulling a beer out of the fridge. "Because a single beer will go completely through your system in 6 hours, I promise."

Morgan eyed the beers uncomfortably before giving in. "Just one," she grumbled, and I grinned, sliding one across the counter.

"So…you and Nick a thing now?" I asked mischievously.

She fake gagged. "No way in hell. We're just on the same case together."

"I know, I can't wait to get back to Emily Brown's case," I groaned, trying not to think about it.

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure you'll have to go solo on that," Morgan said, swallowing. "Because Sara and Greg had a case together, and Russell is sticking me with Nick."

"So I'm still not by myself," I said, rolling my eyes. "I have Finn and Russell."

She shook her head. "They're on a 'different' suicide case, as Russell put it."

"I see," I commented. "That's good, because I have some pretty good leads, if I do say so myself."

Morgan just laughed and shook her head. We both looked back into the living room, where Nick was talking to himself and Greg was staring at the TV with a bored look. "What does Greg even watch on TV?" she whispered to me, both of us wearing perplexed expressions.

"I don't even know," I said, thinking back to whenever we rarely flip on that old TV set. "Sometimes he watches the discovery channel with me. Or we'll both just watch 60 minutes."

She nodded absentmindedly before turning and grinning at me. "You guys like each other," she sang, sipping more of her beer.

"No." I lied, clenching my jaw. "We don't."

"Oh whatever," she said, rolling her eyes at me. "You're too blind to see it!"

"Believe me, I am not one of those love-blind people, Morgan." I said, watching as she stood up and threw her beer can away.

"Looks different than that," she sang, skipping back to her seat. "You looovee him-"

"Shut up!" I grumbled, cupping my hand over her mouth so Greg wouldn't hear her. "Do you want him to hear you and get ideas?"

She just giggled, pushing my hand away. "No, I get it," she said coolly, just looking away and smiling. "You can't say anything because of work."

"Morgan." I said, looking her in the eyes carefully. "We do not like each other."

"You're _so _gonna end up together."

I just blushed, remaining silent.

Would we?

**A/N: Awww, so cute.:) Okay, I know a lot happened this chapter, but I just wanted to do a little role-reversal.:D Okay, so what did we think about **

**Grace? Did anyone like her back-stabbing character? **

**Ryan?** **Even if he's only in one brief scene?**

**Gove? Who I plan on bringing back later on (mwahaha.)**

**Greg getting stabbed? And their little semi-romantic scene while that was all going on?**

**Lexi getting kind of mad at Nick? That was also fun to write.:)**

**The scene with Morgan and Lexi?! Oh my gosh you don't even know how much I enjoyed writing that part.(: **

**REVIEW! IT HELPS ME THINK AND GET IDEAS SO MUCH! REVIEW! **

**Thanks.(:**


	7. Pancakes and Milkshakes

**A/N: Don't own CSI! Just Lexi! (And San Diegoers, Family members, and Emerie.) I think everyone will enjoy this chapter(maybe not, don't think I'm being cocky) but it's a lot of Greg and Lexi romance! *squeals to herself*. Huge shout out to lotzalove and smuffly, best reviews in the entire universe. Thanks guys.(:**

"Hodges!" I barked, stepping into the lab for the first time since Greg was stabbed. Hodges jumped slightly, almost dropping a test tube.

"Yes?" he asked innocently. I rolled my eyes in irritation.

"I'll take those papers now," I said, extending my hand.

"Oh, those?" he asked lazily, before stepping over and handing me a file. "There you go."

"Hey, Hodges?" I asked lightly, working on containing my anger.

"Yes?" he asked, looking up from a microscope.

"You telling Gove about your theory of Greg and I?" He looked away immediately. "Could have gotten me fired. Keep your mouth shut and theories to yourself."

"Sorry," he sighed, shaking his head and returning to his microscope.

I walked down the hallway, heading for the break room. A place to sit and look over these DNA results. Finally. "Lexi?" a voice asked as I sat down at a table.

"Yeah?" I asked, not looking up and not caring who was talking to me.

"What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be home with Greg?" Finn asked, and I turned around to raise my eyebrows at her.

"I needed to get back to work," I said with a shrug. "Does it really matter?"

"No," she answered, looking at me strangely before leaving the room. I returned to my DNA results, feeling my expression brighten. I grabbed the file and practically skipped down the hallway and into Russell's office.

"Our high schooler with the throwback death?" I announced, entering his office and grinning.

"Yeah, what about her?" he asked in a bored tone, looking up from some papers.

"Got a DNA match for the saliva on the bottle," I said proudly, dropping the file on his desk. "Cole McLaughlin, Bryce's brother. Served time in the slammer for a kidnapping, just got out a month ago."

He read it over quickly before handing it back to me. "Well done. But not enough to convict."

"Why do I keep getting that?" I said to myself, sighing. "Enough for Brass to bring him in?"

"Yeah," he said, looking up briefly and staring out the door. "You're pretty good at bugging the crap out of suspects, I'm sure you can get him to give in."

"Not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," I said quietly, but smiled at him and walked out of the room, waving.

"Wait, Lexi!" Russell called, hurrying out of his office. I turned around, facing him. "How's Greg?"

"Oh, he's doing well," I said, smiling. "But that's probably just my cooking."

Russell laughed, shaking his head. "That kid…and you. You're both getting in trouble lately, huh? Shot, bombed and stabbed in the past month."

"Believe me, we didn't ask for it," I said, looking away from him.

"Yeah, well I expect to see him back tomorrow night," Russell said before raising his eyebrows at me. "You two together or something?"

"What?" I asked, my voice going a teeny bit higher. "No! God, no."

"Uh-huh." Russell said, chuckling at the end. "Now go get your killer, Lexi."

…

"You're kidding me, right?" I asked, deeply annoyed now.

"No, I swear I'm not," Greg promised from the other end of the phone. "Pancakes sound really good for breakfast."

"Greg, I'm about to go into the interrogation room, and you're asking me for _pancakes_?"

There was a silence. "Yes." He said meekly, and I grinned to myself before checking my watch.

"I'll be home in an hour, can you hang on?" I didn't wait for an answer and hung up anyways, hurrying into the interrogation room and taking my seat.

"Nice of you to show up, Smith," Brass said to me as I took my seat across from the suspect.

"Um, Greg wanted pancakes," I said awkwardly, making the suspect laugh.

"Your son?" he asked me, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," I lied, now staring at him. "But that's not really why we're here."

"Oh, sorry I forgot," the man said, looking at me like I was stupid. "You police slaves think I killed Bryce's girl."

"Excuse me?" I said through gritted teeth. "We are CSI's, not police slaves. CSI's busted your ass with evidence you left behind, McLaughlin. That's why you're here."

He just shook his head. "Why would I want to kill my brother's girlfriend? The kid's been single his whole life."

"He wasn't her boyfriend," I reminded him. "A totally different kid was. Travis Gray? That name ring a bell?"

He looked up at me, glaring. "Nope."

"Travis bullies your brother a lot," I said, reading a file I'd gotten from the school, describing the time Travis threw Bryce in a trash can. "That piss you off?"

"No," he said, shrugging. "Listen, I already told your police buddies: I just help Bryce with cleaning up after basketball games."

"So did Emily," I snapped. "You killed her because you thought it would end all of the teasing between Travis and Bryce."

Silence.

"You knew Travis teased Bryce about not having Emily. So you hit her with your old soda bottle. Hurt her, but didn't kill her or even knock her out. So you strangled her to death." I stated, and watched as he sighed in defeat. "You killed her because you didn't have the guts to kill her boyfriend, who was really doing the damage."

"Alright, you got me," he laughed, putting his hands up. "Stick me in jail, do whatever you want. I'll get out. And when I do, well, you better watch out, miss."

"Good luck with that," I sneered, standing up and nodding to Brass. "We're done here."

I walked out of the interrogation room, feeling numb. First Mrs. Brown telling me my kids would be murdered, and now this punk. I sighed aloud, and checked my watch. I still had 10 minutes left, though I figured there was nothing better to do, so I headed for the locker rooms.

"Skipping out 10 minutes early?" Hodges asked from inside the locker room. I slipped my vest off and ignored him, tossing my stuff inside the locker. "Hello?"

"Hodges-" I began, but paused. "You need a girlfriend."

He blushed and looked away. "Harsh."

"And honest," I said, shutting my locker and leaning against it. "Stop meddling in other peoples love lives and get one of your own."

"Look, I'm sorry about spilling the beans to Gove about you and Greg-"

"There are no beans to spill!" I shrieked furiously. "There is nothing going on between us!"

He just raised his eyebrows at me before smirking. "Sanders isn't half bad," he said, looking down at me. "You guys would make a good couple, just don't pressure him into anything. He's a human panic attack."

And with that, he walked out of the locker room.

Had Hodges just given me advice on my love life?

….

I stepped into Greg's house, and noted that his TV was still on. "Greg, come turn the TV off or no pancakes!"

"I thought I'd give you a break," he said from behind me, making me jump.

"Stop doing that," I said, sighing and turning around to face him. "And blueberries in the pancakes or not?"

He just laughed and shook his head. "You made me food yesterday. Let's go _out _to breakfast."

I looked at him suspiciously. "You do realize I just got done with a 10 hour shift at work, right?"

"And?" he asked, taking my arm. "What's your point?"

"I'm tired, Greg," I whined, stopping in my tracks. "I wanna sleep."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, you can sleep. I'll just eat cereal."

"Yeah, you do that."

"No, Lex! That was your cue to come in and make me food!"

"Sorry," I said, not really caring as I stumbled up the stairs, into his room. Even after being stabbed, he'd been sleeping on the damn couch.

I quickly changed into pajamas and jumped into the bed, letting my head rest against the pillow, so nice and comfy. So sleepy and…

"_You know, you look beautiful tonight," Grayson mumbled in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Truly stunning."_

"_Thanks," I said quietly, smiling at him. "That's really sweet."_

"_We should run away together," Grayson said, happiness apparent in his voice. "Get you away from Tanner and-"_

"Grayson_?!" a voice screeched, and I closed my eyes, it being all too familiar. What the hell was she doing here?_

"_Casey?" he asked nervously. _

"_What are you doing with _her_?" she snapped, walking towards us, her feet sinking into the beach's sand with every step. I pulled away from Grayson, unsure of what Casey would do. "You…Lexi?"_

_I looked away and nodded guiltily. "I can't believe you. If stealing my father wasn't enough, then you go after my boyfriend?!" she shouted, walking closer to me. I shook my head._

"_It wasn't like that, Casey, I really had no idea you guys were dating and-"_

"_You're nothing but a lying _bitch_." She spat, pushing me. Her height and weight caused me to stumble backwards, and she smirked happily. _

"_Casey, calm down." Grayson said from somewhere behind us._

"_What, too tiny to help yourself?" she taunted. "No guns to save your ass now."_

"_Shut the hell up, Casey." I demanded, crossing my arms and standing stock still. "How was I supposed to know that you two were dating? Hell, I thought he was single."_

_She stopped, seeming to think about my words carefully. "Whatever, Lexi. And Grayson?" she growled, turning back to her boyfriend. "We're through. Maybe next time you get a new job, you won't cheat on me in the first week."_

_She stormed away from the beach, leaving me to now cross my arms at my newest co-worker. "Guess you didn't think she'd show up in San Diego," I sighed, walking by him and patting him on the back. "Normally I'd be pissed, but who would be bothered by their physcopathic sisters ruined relationship?"_

_He just kind of gave me a weird look, and I shrugged, walking off of the beach._

I jumped awake, hitting something as I did so. I turned to the left, and saw the stirring figure of a sleeping Greg next to me.

"Greg?" I whispered, rubbing my eyes and hating that it was only 5 o clock at night, and I'd only gotten 9 hours of sleep.

"Yeah?" he mumbled not even turning around.

"What are you doing?" I whispered back, feeling uncomfortable.

"Trying to go back to sleep." He answered simply, and I shot him a yeah-well-go-sleep-on-the-couch look, though he wouldn't look at me so I was sure he hadn't gotten to see it.

"Okay," I sighed, pulling the covers off of me and sitting up. "I'll go sleep on the couch then."

"No," he said, rolling over quickly and grabbing my hand. "You can stay here. The neighbors were just being noisy, I couldn't sleep."

"Then I will go sleep down there, Greg." I said, patting his hand. "Really. You need more rest than I do, and we start work in 6 hours."

He groaned, then gripped his pillow tightly and smiled. "I miss my pillow."

"Then I will sleep on the couch forever," I said, giggling and taking my own pillow as I left the room. "Hey!"

I backed back into the room, raising my eyebrows at him. "What?"

"You still owe me a beer." He stated, and I checked my watch.

"Get your ass dressed, and we'll go get a beer," I said, throwing the pillow back down on the bed and rolling my eyes.

He sat right up in bed, and like a zombie, stumbled into the bathroom, wearing his classic X-files long pajama pants. "God, I am so _tired._" He complained, and I could hear him washing his face.

"Nice pajama pants," I commented, smirking as I pulled out my clothes for the day

"Oh yeah, you like my shirt?" he said almost incoherently, stepping out of the bathroom with a toothbrush stuck in his mouth.

My eyes flew to his bare chest, realizing he wasn't even wearing a shirt. I blushed, but looked back at my bag. "Funny, Greg."

He just laughed, walking back into the bathroom and finishing brushing his teeth. "You know, we really shouldn't be drinking before work."

"Greg, you want a beer. So we'll go get a beer. No big deal." I said, pulling off my pajama shirt quickly and flipping my new one on.

"I saw that," he called out of the bathroom. I blushed even more. He stuck his head out of the bathroom. "I'm kidding."

"Yeah, you better be," I sighed, shaking my head.

"Let's get a milkshake," he suggested, stepping out of the bathroom and pulling a shirt over his head.

"A milkshake?" I asked, raising a single eyebrow. "From where?"

"The place down the road," he said simply, leaning against the wall by the bathroom as I entered with my curling iron. "Like a date."

I froze and turned around. "You're asking me on a date?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"An official date," he corrected, and just waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Come on, Lexi. You live with me, we just slept in the same bed together…the way I see it, we're doing this whole thing backwards."

"Okay," I said, returning to my curling iron. "Deal."

"Because you and I kissing in my car like a month ago…that shit doesn't count," he joked, turning from where he was leaning against the wall and looking at me in the mirror.

I just laughed, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Yeah, okay."

"You always blush," he noted, watching intensely as I curled my hair.

"So?" I asked, blushing even more. He pointed at me.

"You're doing it again."

I just laughed, ignoring him and continuing to curl my hair. "Should I be surprised if I find a curling iron in one of your drawers someday?" I asked, pulling the hot metal away from my hair.

"Um, yes?" he asked, looking at my strangely. "Why?"

"Nick tells me used to have curly hair," I giggled, finally finished with my hair and unplugging the curling iron. "Sure you didn't curl it?"

"Do I look gay?" he asked me in a bored tone.

"When you wear those pajama pants? Yes." I answered, leaving the bathroom and tossing the curling iron in the bag. "Now get out so I can change my pants."

He raised his eyebrows and reluctantly went downstairs. I hurried and changed before checking myself over in the mirror, my butterflies having seizures again. They must be epileptic.

I rushed down the stairs, smiling broadly at Greg as he opened the front door for me. I walked through it, turning around to wink at him. Since when had I become such a flirt? Usually my flirting was awkward and embarrassing-

"Man, it's been years since I've had a milkshake," Greg said. His voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked up and smiled at him.

"Oh yeah, me too," I said, feeling content.

"Chocolate or Vanilla?" he asked me, glancing over.

"Vanilla," I answered, thinking back to when Emerie and I used to get milkshakes every Tuesday when I worked in Phoenix.

He looked at me distastefully. "Nasty. Chocolate is better."

"What?" I exclaimed, grinning as we pulled into a cute little milkshake and ice cream shack. "Are you flipping nuts?"

He shrugged. "You should be able to answer that by now."

I chuckled, shaking my head and pulling out my wallet. "Here," I said, handing him ten bucks. More than necessary, but whatever. "You go in and order, I gotta call Brass and see how everything worked out with Emily Brown's killer."

"No," he said, pushing the money away. "I can get it."

"No," I insisted, pushing the money towards him. "Really."

He just stared at me, and I quickly shoved the money in his hands, jumping out of the car and laughing my ass of at his awkwardness towards my money. "I'm not spending it," he told me, walking into the milkshake place. I fought for air, and quickly called Brass as I sobered up.

"Brass." His solemn and rather boring answer sounding from the other end of the line.

"It's Lexi," I said, looking through the restaurants window to see Greg paying with his credit card. I made a note to not mention anything about it, hoping not to make him feel even more awkward. Like Hodges said, he was a human panic attack when he wanted to be.

Did I just use Hodges as a reference?

"Hello? You there, Smith?" Brass's voice asked, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"Oh, sorry," I apologized. "But um, how did everything go with Cole McLaughlin? Do they have a court date yet?"

"No," Brass answered. "I'll let you know when though, Smith"

"Thanks," I sighed, shutting the front irritably. Greg came out, balancing two milkshakes. I rolled my eyes and quickly took one out of his hands.

"What'd Brass say?" Greg asked, and we leaned against the hood of his car, basking in the cold November air, figuring this didn't exactly fit the time of year.

"No court date yet," I grumbled, sipping on the milkshake. My taste buds felt like they were singing, like I was eating a rainbow. "Holy crap. This is the best milkshake I've had. Ever."

"I know," he said, sipping his own. "They're fantastic."

"And it's November," I sighed. "Back in Los Angeles, it didn't really get this cold."

"It's a cold year," he said, watching some people nearby. "And I already told you, used to live in the LA area. San Gabriel is in Los Angeles County, you know."

"Duh," I said, shaking my head at my own stupidity. "I really cannot believe I forgot that."

"I can," he said simply, and just smirked at me. "So, I got a question for you."

"Yeah?" I asked, wondering which one it could be.

"What happened with your buddies from San Diego?" he asked casually.

"Gove's an ass," I said, shrugging. "He tried to get me in trouble because Hodges told him we were 'romantically involved'."

His eyes darted over to me. "Are we?"

"I don't know," I said, running a hand through my hair. "I don't think so though. Not yet."

"Ah, not yet," he grinned, like he was successful.

"Yes, Greg," I sighed, smiling softly at him. "Not yet."

"Hodges doesn't have a life," he told me, nodding. "I'm not surprised he decided to make stuff up."

"I know. And yesterday, he tried to give me advice." I said, making him laugh.

"About what?" he said, smirking.

"You."

"What?"

It was my turn to laugh, and I just looked away from him. "He said you're a panic attack."

"I am not!" he insisted, groaning. "Hodges just hates me."

"Calm down, Greggo," I said, sipping my milkshake. "He also said you weren't half bad." _Yes, Lexi, and he also said we'd make a good couple. _

He looked surprised. "You had to hear it from Hodges to believe that?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I knew that a long time ago."

He blushed this time, and I pointed my finger at him. "You're blushing!" I cried, and he blushed even more.

"We're doing things backwards again, Lexi." He reminded me, gesturing to our milkshakes, seeing as I was done with mine. "We're supposed to eat dinner first, remember?"

I shrugged. "Let's skip it," I suggested. "Be even more rebellious."

He just laughed, and motioned for me to get in the car. "We should do this more often," he commented as we got in the car. "We have awesome dates."

"No awkwardness, just you and I," I said, smiling. "Maybe backwards is how everyone should do it."

He shook his head. "No. If everyone did it backwards, there would be a lot more pregnant women in the world." He started his car, and I leaned back in my seat.

"You really think that?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and worriedly looked out the window. We were going the opposite direction of our house.

"For sure." He said, nodding. "You know how many people have sex on the first date?"

"Not us?" I guessed, and he looked over at me.

"Not us." He confirmed, and I smiled.

"And they said chivalry was dead."

"It's not," he agreed, and drove out further towards the desert.

"Greg?"

"Hmm?"

"Where the hell are we headed?"

He looked over at me and winked, and I moaned as he pulled out towards a lake, but parked on top of a cliff, probably 500 feet above the lake itself. "Best view in Vegas."

"Is that so?" I asked, though I was awestruck at the beauty of it.

"Yeah," he answered, smiling gently at the lake. "You swim?"

"I lived in San Diego," I reminded him, and he nodded.

"Let's jump," he said, looking over to me.

"No," I said, watching the lake carefully. "Not now."

"But later." He said, sensing what I meant.

"Yes," I said, looking over at him. "Later."

"Come on," he said, opening his door and stepping out of the car. He stepped onto the hood of the Denali, then sat on the roof of it.

"You do realize my short legs cannot even jump that high, right?" I asked. He just laughed, and stepped off of the roof, offering his hand. I took it, and he pulled me up easily.

"You're malnourished," he said as I sat on the roof of the Denali with him.

"I prefer petite," I said, and he just chuckled. We watched the lake glisten as the sun began to set.

"Wow," he breathed. "I've seen this so many times and…it's still amazing."

I nodded in silent agreement. "Nature's beautiful sometimes."

"Nature's nothing compared to you," he said, looking over at me.

I giggled. "That was cheesy." His face fell. "But really sweet.

He rolled his eyes and lied down on the roof, and I followed suit. "This is even better," he muttered under his breath, and I could now see the stars as it became pitch black outside.

"Damn," I said, smiling. "You got a corny joke for this?"

"No," he said.

"That's good," I said, feeling perfectly content here, with Greg. Even if we were just lying on the roof of a car.

"Is it just me, or do you feel like your back in an 80's movie?" he asked me, and I rolled me eyes.

"I don't think so. But it is a pretty classic scene."

"We'd be terrible actors," he pointed out, reaching for my hand and holding it tightly.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I can't lie worth shit, so acting wouldn't be good."

"Your hair smells nice," he sighed, and I looked over at him.

"That was random." I said, and he shrugged.

"It just kind of hit me," he explained, and I just laughed.

"Well, it's good to know I don't smell like blood or dead bodies all the time," I said, and he squeezed my hand.

"You're the best," he said, sighing to himself. "And I'm pretty awesome."

"Hey!" I said, swatting his shoulder. "That's my line to you!"

"Oh, sorry," he said, smirking. "And that is why we shouldn't be actors."

I stopped, my body suddenly stiff and frozen. "Greg, you hear that?"

"What?" he asked, sitting up and looking around nervously.

"It's coming from down there," I whispered, shushing him as I jumped off of the roof of the car, I walked over to the edge of the cliff.

Below on the beach, a couple were making out and making weird noises. We both started snickering, and I shook my head. "Great call, Lexi."

"I'm sorry," I said, gasping for air. "I totally thought she screamed."

"You were a very socially deprived child," he said, his face just inches away from mine.

"So were you." I said quietly, looking into his brown eyes.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, smirking.

"You haven't kissed me yet."

He didn't seem to need any more persuasion, as he leaped forward and kissed me, and my back slammed onto the ground because of his enthusiasm.

Just Greg Sanders and I, kissing on a cliff.

**A/N: AWWWWW! That was sooo cute!:) I love them so much!3**

**So yeah, I would still like everyone to REVIEW, but I'm not asking for reviews on certain topics (sorry for doing that, I just wonder what you think of those things…)**

**Ahem, but what did you think of their date?:) Cute enough? I think so, but what did YOU think?**

**So yeah, REVIEW!:D**

**P.S: Who has tumblrs? Look me up under titleixswagg(sorry for the lame name, I'm a sports junkie.:P)**

**Gotta Go Now, DANCE MOMS IN ON!:D**


	8. San Gabriel

**A/N: I don't own CSI *sighs*. Picking up right where we left off last chapter though, so enjoy!:)**

I kissed Greg back, though I couldn't help but feel a slight urgency coming from him at first. Within 20 seconds, he pulled back at smirked at me. "Am I socially deprived still?" he asked, and I shook my head. He went back to kissing me, his hands gripping my waist as he laid on top of me, since he'd already freaking pinned me to the ground.

"Greg," I breathed, and he looked up at me, raising his eyebrows. I looked at my watch curiously. "Work in 3 hours, remember? And we're making out on the side of a cliff."

He just laughed and rolled off of me, extending a hand. I took it, and he pulled me up. "Next date, we're jumping off that cliff."

"It's November," I reminded him, and he seemed to contemplate this as he lead me back into his car, since it was becoming ice cold outside.

"You're right," he said with a nod. "I wonder why the lake was open anyways then."

"Beats me," I said with a shrug, and he reached out and held my hand. He had flipped the heater on and smiled over at me.

"Where you going for Thanksgiving?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Work." I answered, earning a head shake.

"Come with me to San Gabriel," he offered casually. "Mom always makes a kickass turkey."

I snorted, and shook my head. "Your family's Thanksgiving, you go."

"No, I want you to go," he said eagerly. "As my date."

"We need dates to Thanksgiving?" I asked, gaping at him.

He rolled his eyes. "No. But you could still be mine."

"Looking for someone to bring home to your mom?" I questioned, and he shook his head.

"No, I hardly ever brought girls home to mom when I was in high school and college."

"Probably because you didn't have any to bring home in the first place," I teased, and he just nudged me with his elbow.

"Hey, I was quite the ladies man." He claimed, and I burst out laughing. "Don't laugh. Look around you, Lexi."

I did, and then sighed in resignation. "You're right," I agreed, and he gave me a smug look.

"Come on, I'll pay for your plane ticket," he said, and pulled the ten dollar bill out his pocket. "You already paid for 10 bucks of it."

"If we go, I'm paying." I snapped, crossing my arms defiantly.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "I try to be the gentleman, and you reject me."

"Basically." I said, and he shook his head. "But yeah, I'll go then."

He looked practically ecstatic. "You're the best, Lexi."

"Yeah, I know," I said, looking over at him and pecking his cheek lightly. He just sat there, looking at me when I pulled away. "What?"

He shook his head and leaned in, kissing me. It was nice, and we both just sat there, making out in his car. I ran a hand through his hair, and he just brushed my bangs out of my face. I pulled away. "Why couldn't I have met you in college?" he sighed.

"Because I was like a senior in high school when you were a senior in college," I said, laughing. He seemed to take a moment and absorb that information.

"You're still in your 20s?" he whined finally, looking up at me.

"28, Greggo," I said, and he closed his eyes.

"I wish I was that young."

"You're 33, still young."

He contemplated this and shrugged. "You want kids?" he asked, leaning back in his seat and still watching the lake.

"Yes," I answered confidently.

"How many?" He seemed to be lost in a daydream, his questions sounding distant.

I shrugged. "Like 3," I answered.

"4."

"What?"

"I want 4," he said, glancing over at me. "My mom always wanted 4."

"How many did she get?"

"One," he sighed, closing his eyes. "Little Gregory."

"Being an only child sucks," I agreed, nodding.

"How would you know?" he asked, looking confused. "You have a sister."

"Who wasn't around the first 16 years of my life."

"Point taken."

The silence was comfortable, and I felt like I could stay there forever.

"You know, most girls would freak out if a guy asked them how many kids they wanted on the first date." He mused, smiling to himself.

"I'm not like most girls." I pointed out. The corners up his mouth twitched upwards.

"That, I agree with," he said, his eyes flickering to me. "How are you even still single?"

I shrugged. "Am I considered single, Greg?"

"It's a date. You're not my girlfriend yet, huh?" He frowned

"Nope," I whispered. "Not quite yet."

"Getting there?"

"For sure, Greg," I giggled. "You're getting there."

He seemed to be satisfied with that answer, and spun around to face me. "What's today's date?"

"It's the 9th." I answered. "Why?"

"6 months from now, we're gonna jump off this cliff." He promised, and I laughed.

"Oh, are we?"

"Yeah." He said, like it was obvious.

"In May?"

"Don't worry, it'll be plenty hot enough," he said, and I looked back out at the lake.

"Sounds good to me," I said.

"My mom is going to adore you," he said happily.

I went to respond, but my phone rang. I flipped it open "Smith."

"This is Lexi Smith?" a shaky voice asked.

"Yeah…who's this?" I asked.

"This s Maggie Moser…I need help."

…

Greg and I stood in the parking lot of Circus Circus, the cold November air making me feel like ice. Suddenly, the figure of a girl came out from behind a car, and it was then that I realized it was Maggie Moser. She had gained wait, defidentally showing off her pregnancy. "Maggie?" I called out, and I could hear sobbing starting over. I instinctively pulled her into a hug. "What's wrong?"

"My parents kicked me out," she cried, laying her head on my shoulder. I hushed her, stroking her hair gently.

"Hey, you're gonna be okay," I whispered, and exchanged a worried looked with Greg. His expression was purely unreadable though, as soon as Maggie pulled her head up.

"The baby," she choked, shaking her head. "It's not my boyfriends."

"Hey, calm down," I said, wiping away one of her tears. "Whose is it?"

"My dad's," she sobbed, and I just stood there. "I'm so sorry, you were the only person I thought of to come to…"

"No," I said loudly. "Don't be sorry, please. We're gonna get you to the police station, file for rape. We're gonna stick him behind bars, you're gonna have the baby, get an abortion, I don't really care. But you're gonna be okay."

"I will _not _have an abortion," she said defiantly, shaking her head.

"That's fine too," I reassured her. "I agree with your decision."

"I am _keeping _this baby," she said, and Greg looked at me wearily. "And no one in my family is going anywhere near it."

"Hey, that's understandable," I reasoned, and could just feel her motherly waves already.

"What if my baby's got problems?" she sobbed, her tears kind of staining my shirt. "Incest and all."

"Don't even worry about that," I said, pulling her head out of my shoulder and wiping away her runny mascara. "You have grandparents, right?"

She nodded. "My grandmother, Irene."

"Great. Tonight, you're gonna get a cab to her house, okay?" I asked, running my hands down her arms.

She nodded solemnly, and Greg dialed for a cab. "Hey, Lexi?" she asked quietly as Greg walked away on the phone.

"Hmm?"

"Is that Greg?"

"Yeah." She smiled.

"Yeah, you like him."

"Oh, shut up," I teased, and she laughed.

"I can tell."

"If I say yes, would you laugh?"

"No, I'd think it's sweet."

"Then yes."

She smiled up at me brightly, and I felt a certain level of satisfaction. "Cab's on its way," Greg said, walking up to us. I stuffed my hands in my pocket, avoiding his gaze.

We sat in an awkward silence until a cab pulled up. I handed Maggie 30 bucks, to which she profusely thanked me. I told her not to worry about it and watched as the cab driver drove her away. Greg and I stood there, next to the Denali, mildly surprised expressions written across our faces.

And then his lips were on mine, out of nowhere. I pulled back after a while, and just looked at him. "I am so grateful to have you," was all he said, and he hugged me tightly.

"Does this have anything to do with Maggie?" I asked, looking at him skeptically.

"It has everything to do with Maggie," he said. "While she's dealing with one of the worst things _ever,_ we've got each other. And she's got no one."

I gave him a watery smile. "Come on, we'll be late for work, Greggo."

He just laughed, squeezing my hand. "You can call me that now, Lex."

"Yeah, I wasn't really going to ask permission anyways."

…

"Okay guys, I'll see you all Monday!" Russell said, sticking his head in the locker room where we were all taking off our vests, excited to be going on Thanksgiving vacation.

"Yeah, have a good one!" I called, waving to Russell. He waved and walked out, heading for the crime lab door.

"Where's everyone going for Thanksgiving?" Morgan asked, slamming her locker shut.

"Texas," Nick answered. "Going home for once."

"I'm staying here," Sara answered. "Grissom demands that we have a 'normal' Thanksgiving."

"Same," Finn sighed, still struggling with her key to the locker.

Greg and I remained silent, hoping the question wouldn't roll around to us. Nick coughed, and looked at me pointedly. "Where are _you _going, Lexi?"

"With a friend," I said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"And you, Greggo?"

"San Gabriel," he answered, shutting his locker. "Come on."

I followed him out the door, waving to everyone as I did so. "Hey, Greg," I whispered, holding his wrist. "We forgot to say goodbye to someone."

He raised his eyebrows at me, and pulled him into Hodges lab, where he was hurriedly packing things up. "Hodges." Greg said loudly, making the man jump.

"Why do you insist on scaring me, Sanders?" he asked, stopping and leaning against the desk.

"It was Lexi's idea, not mine," Greg said innocently.

"Just wanted to wish you a good Thanksgiving," I said lightly. Hodges blushed.

"Thank you," he answered, and returned to packing up his stuff. "Sure there's no beans to spill, Lexi?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry Hodges, I'm sure. You'll be the first to know if there is."

He smiled, looking satisfied, and I led Greg out of the lab. "Why did we talk to Hodges?"

"Shut up, we're going to be late for our plane," I grumbled, jumping into the passenger's seat and nervously looking behind me at the bag I had packed.

"Lex, you gotta promise me something," he said, the nervousness obvious in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't make fun of my mom," he groaned. "She's all over-protective of me, you know how mothers are." _No, not really in that sense. _"And she doesn't know about me being stabbed."

"So don't tell her?" I guessed, and he nodded.

"She doesn't know about the explosion either," he said uneasily, turning onto an exit that led to the airport. "But please, when she asks to see your stomach, don't refuse."

"What?" I yelled, turning and glaring at him. He winced.

"When, um, when you got shot, it was kind of on the news, you know?" he said quietly. "Remember that?"

"Yes, I remember that," I said through gritted teeth. "But I'll bet you told her anyways."

"Guilty as charged," he groaned, and pulled into the airport parking lot. "I was just freaking out and-"

I kissed him, making him shut up. Yeah, I was pissed at him. But he was so cute when he felt bad, and I didn't want him to feel that way anyways. "It's okay."

He just smiled, and checked his watch. "We have like 5 minutes until we should go in."

"We're not making out until then," I clarified, and he gave me a guilty expression. I hit his shoulder. "That look isn't going to work on me!"

"Fine," he grumbled irritably, jumping out of the car and grabbing his bags from the backseat. "But you're gonna owe me later."

"How's that?" I laughed, getting my bag and stuffing my purse in it quickly, pulling it behind as we walked to the airport(Greg hates shuttles. Apparently they're the most 'germ infected things ever')

"I have a cousin, Bree?" he said casually, and I just glanced over at him, but his face was unreadable as always.

"And?"

"She has a daughter-"

"Greg!" I groaned, and he looked over at me. "You know kids hate me."

"Says the lady who wants 4 of her own."

"No, I wanted 3, you wanted 4. Remember?"

He laughed and swung his spare arm around me. "Yeah, well she's a sweetie anyways. But Bree always puts me through the torture of taking her to the park with her."

"Bree comes with you?" he nodded. "Then I really don't see the problem here, Greg."

"She's boring."

"So you want me to come with you?"

"You catch on fast." We got into line for security.

"So, you staying in your childhood bed?" I snickered quietly.

"No. We're staying in a hotel." He answered shortly, showing the guy his ticket. I showed him mine, and we did the usual "dump-your-shoes-and-everything-in-the-box".

"Cool, our own beds for once," I laughed, earning a weird look from the security guy. I ignored it, and waited for Greg to respond. But there was nothing.

He didn't say a word, and walked through the metal detector thing. I went through next, and as soon as we were out, I grabbed my shoes and luggage, sitting down next to him in a chair.

"You're not telling me something."

"Well, it's just that, you know, everyone flies in and out of places for Thanksgiving and…" he trailed off, looking around. "Thehotelonlyhadaroomwithoneb edinit."

"What?" I asked, clenching my jaw.

"The hotel only had a room with one bed it." He said, looking away from my gaze.

I sighed. "I'll take the floor."

He slipped his shoes on, and smiled over at me. "No, I'll take the floor."

"Fine," I said, shrugging.

"But Lexi?"

"Hmm?"

"We're dating, right?" His question hung in there, and I knew the answer immediately, but to actually say it felt real.

"Yeah," I answered, and smiled at him, kissing him on the cheek.

"Now Boarding, Flight 303 to Los Angeles." The lady called over the loudspeaker. I grabbed our stuff, and Greg and I hurried into the line.

"San Gabriel doesn't have their own airport?" I asked, smirking.

He shook his head. "Not big enough. Besides, it's only a 20 minute drive from LA to the hotel."

"I see," I said, handing the guy my ticket first. He did the whole scan thing, and then allowed me to go through.

"Wonder what I'll get stuck next to this time," he sighed to himself, and I turned around and raised my eyebrows.

"You tell me, Greg." I said.

He shook his head at me, and as we were rushed into the plane, there was already an argument going on.

"Oh hell no, I gotta put my sons crap in there, mister!" a lady shouted.

"Lady, I have an important meeting and I cannot have my stuff messed up. Please remove the backpack."

"Listen to this joker!" she shouted. "It's Thanksgivin soon and all he worried about is some damn meeting!"

I stifled a laugh and threw our stuff in the overhead carry on compartment. Well, I tried. But Greg had to help me because I was too freaking short. Again.

I sat down, taking the window seat. Greg settled in next to me, and he smiled gratefully as a teenager came and sat down next to him. "See, Greggo, no weirdos."

"That rhyme was lame." He said with a frown.

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm Lanie," the girl said, shaking our hands. We introduced ourselves, and she anxiously waited to pull her iPod out.

"Ma'am, please remove your backpack!"

"Oh hell naw!"

What a fun plane ride this would be.

….

"Okay, so when you see my mom, just let her hug you, okay?" Greg whispered as we stepped into the food court part of LAX.

"You didn't tell me she was picking us up," I said nervously.

"Oh, I didn't?"

"Greg!" I whined, leaning against him. "It's raining outside too! Plus, you already rented a car. Why is she picking us up?"

"She's not, she wanted to meet us here," he muttered quietly, and we stepped out from around a corner.

"Gregory!" a voice shouted shrilly, and I could hear Greg groan inwardly. A woman ran up to Greg, wrapping him up in a hug and nearly choking him.

"Hey, ma," he said, smiling down at her.

"You've gotten so tall!" she exclaimed, looking him up and down.

"Still 6 feet, Mom. Just like I was when I saw you at Christmas," Greg said, still smiling at his mother.

"No wonder I feel so short," I said underneath my breath, Greg hearing me and quirking an eyebrow.

"Mom, this is Lexi," he said proudly. "We're dating."

His mother gathered me in a tight hug, and I glared at the laughing Greg. "It's really nice to meet you, Mrs. Sanders," I said, smiling at her once she let me go.

"My little boy, already dating?" she asked tearfully, and Greg rolled his eyes.

"I'm 33, Mom."

"Still!" she cried, and then hugged him again. "Gregory, you promise me that you'll call and let me know what time you guys will be over for dinner, okay?"

"Of course, mom," he promised.

"That's a good boy," she said, patting his shoulder. "Okay, dear, you two go along. I have to wait for Bree and Dallas."

"See you tomorrow, Mom!" Greg called, and she waved him away, intently watching the exit.

"Your mom's not that bad," I commented as we walked out of the airport, immediately being drenched in rain. "Son of a bitch!"

I pulled my hood on, which really didn't help, because it was pouring. "I actually like the winter," Greg commented, reaching out and holding my hand. "Very peaceful."

"You call this peaceful?!" I shouted over the rain. He chuckled slightly and shrugged.

"Kind of," he answered, squeezing my hand as we approached the airport car rental station. "Car for Greg Sanders?"

"Ah, yes, you reserved this a month ago," the guy laughed, and tossed Greg a key.

"Thanks," Greg had to shout over the wind and rain, and led me to his rental car.

"Really?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "A Denali like ours at home?"

He shrugged. "I miss home already."

"You're just saying that because it's not pouring down rain there," I shouted, and we unlocked the car in a hurry, throwing our luggage in the backseat and jumping in.

Greg flipped the heater on, and I sighed in relief. "You have no idea how nice that feels, Greg," I answered, closing my eyes in happiness. I leaned back in the seat.

His lips brushed my cheek, and my eyes snapped open. He just chuckled and started the car. "You know, the more time we're together, the more I really wish I had met you a long time ago."

"Greg, you're really just the cheesiest romantic ever," I sighed, watching the rain.

"Yeah, I know," he said, shrugging. "But I'm _your _cheesy romantic."

"You're doing it again!"

….

We raced each other down the hallway to our room, earning glares and shouts from other people staying. I fiddled with the room key, and flung the door open quickly. Greg leaped onto the bed.

"It's so warm," he sighed, and I sat down next to him, flipping my hood off and examining my wet hair.

"Isn't this wonderful?" I asked, gesturing to it and sighing.

"You look like a wet dog." He said bluntly.

"Thanks, Greg. You're so supportive." I said sarcastically, and he just smiled to himself, like he didn't hear me. "It's late, which means bedtime, because I am so exhausted."

"Lex?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah?" I asked from where I was now digging through my bag and looking for my pajamas.

"Why don't we just sleep in the bed?" he asked, biting his lip. God that was cute.

"Well, duh," I laughed, shaking my head. "You sleep in the bed and I'll-"

"No, I meant together," he interrupted, not meeting my eyes.

I froze. Sleeping in the same bed usually led to sex, and we were not doing that after we only just started dating officially this morning. "No funny business, Greg," I sighed, heading into the bathroom to change my clothes.

He didn't respond, but as soon as I got out of the bathroom, he was already reading some book in bed. "Hey," he said quietly, his eyes glued to the book.

"Are you really reading the bible?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the cover.

"Uh, _yeah_." He said like it was obvious, then handed it to me. "My family's strictly Christian."

"Same," I sighed, recognizing Corinthians 13:13 and reading it aloud. "'_And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love._'"

I looked up at him, tears forming in my eyes. No, stop it, Lexi. No more crying all the time. You're becoming soft. He leaned forward, kissing me and rolling over so he was on top of me. I placed my hands on his bare chest, shuddering. "It's not funny business, Lex," he cooed in my ear. My eyes were closed as I listened to him carefully. "Just making out."

I nodded, and we just laid there, Greg and I, kissing.

The moment was completely and utterly perfect in every single way.

….

I groaned as I woke up, and looked around. Greg and I had fallen asleep apparently. I looked around nervously, and prayed we hadn't done anything. But I really couldn't remember. I rolled over and looked at his sleeping form.

Carefully, I placed my hand on his chest, just feeling his chest rise and fall. I closed my eyes, the feeling being calming to me. "You're the weirdest person ever."

I jumped, yanking my hand off of his chest. I felt my eyes widen, and he smirked. "Sorry," I said quietly, blushing.

He sat up and kissed my forehead. "You think I care?"

"It's relaxing," I admitted, looking up into his eyes, which were so close to me. "We didn't um, doing anything, right?"

"Of course not," he said, shaking his head. I sighed with relief. "You said no funny business, remember?"

"That's right, I did," I said, lying my head back down in the pillow.

He smiled briefly at me before standing up and showing me the Bible. "You read this when you were young?"

I nodded. "Parents loved church, as ironic as that is."

He set it in the drawer gently before lying back down. We sat in silence before he turned and smiled at me. "You excited for Thanksgiving?"

"Haven't gone to one since I was in Phoenix, when I went with my friend Emerie," I answered, thinking back to when I worked there.

"Vegas has been good to you," he said suddenly, holding up my hand and examining my tan arm. "Even in November."

I laughed, holding up his normal colored arm. "Wish I could say that same about you, Greg," I laughed. My phone rang loudly, and I groaned as I picked it up. "Smith."

"This is Alexandra?" a familiar voice asked from the other end.

"Yes," I said, hoping it wasn't who I thought it was. "Who's this?"

"It's Casey," my older sister answered, and I wanted to chuck the phone at the wall.

"What?" I snapped, leaning against the pillows.

"Your mom…she wanted me to call you…"

"About what?" I frowned.

"Doctors say she's got about a week left…"

"What are you saying, Casey?" I asked, fear rising up inside of me.

"Your mom's got cancer. She's dying."

**A/N: Okay, so what did you think?:) Lots of romanticness between Greg and Lexi;) Plus, a return of Maggie?! What?! Haha.(: AND Greg's mama! She'll be mentioned more next chapter.**

**OKAY THIS PARTS KIND OF IMPORTANT: So, if anyone was offended by the bible verse, I'm sorry It was totally just something that I thought fit. I'm not that religious(I had to Google that, so…), and please don't think that the rest of this story will have a religious basis, because it will not by any means. Sorry, was just clarifying that.:) **

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! Thanks loves3**


	9. Thanksgiving

**A/N: Haha so yeah, someone called me up the other day and was like, "Bitch, you don't own CSI." And I was like "What?" Haha, totally joking. Enjoy this chapter though!:)**

I didn't move the phone, I didn't respond. Mom. With cancer? Although it had been years since I'd spoken to her, this was just not what I was expecting. At all.

"Are you there?"

Casey's obnoxious voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm here." I said softly, all energy to be mean having just been drained from me.

"So are you coming to see her like a good daughter or not?" she snapped, and I could just imagine her crossing her arms impatiently.

"What hospital?" I asked, and Greg's head snapped in my direction.

"St. E's. When are you coming?" she asked bluntly. I closed my eyes.

"I'll be there tomorrow." I sighed, knowing I had to come to Greg's family's Thanksgiving.

"Where are you?" she asked, like she really didn't care but wanted to know anyways.

"San Gabriel," I answer, a numb feeling washing over me.

"What the hell are you doing there?" she laughed, as if she couldn't believe it.

"I'm here with a guy I'm dating," I said, and wanted to say 'boyfriend' so badly. But I didn't. "His family is having Thanksgiving."

Greg watched me carefully. "Well, sis," Casey sighed into the phone. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, Casey," I said, and narrowly caught her.

"What now?" she grumbled.

"What kind of cancer is it?" I asked, thoroughly curious.

"Lung," she said shortly before hanging up.

I shut my phone slowly, and looked up at Greg. "My mom's got a week to live," I said in disbelief. There were no tears, nothing. I felt zero sympathy for her. "And I feel nothing."

He pulled me in for a hug and kissed the top of my head. "Shock." Is all he said, and I assumed that was his explanation for why I wasn't upset.

"What time are we going to your parent's house?" I asked, pulling away from him slightly.

"Um, I'm leaving in half an hour. _You're _going wherever it is you need to go." He said, getting out of bed.

"I'm going to the hospital tomorrow," I said with a shrug. "I'm going with you to your parents."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You sure you feel up to it?"

"Yes," I promised, getting up and rolling off of the bed. "I'm fine, Greg."

"Yeah, sure you are," he sighed, and went off into the bathroom.

…

Greg didn't tell me his parents were like filthy rich.

I mean, just by looking at the house, you could totally tell they were loaded. It was huge, which made me wonder why the hell we didn't just stay here. Greg rang the doorbell, holding my hand carefully. He glanced at me one last time before the door opened.

"Greg!" a voice cried, and a girl flung her arms around Greg. He let go of my hand reluctantly, hugging her back. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, Bree," he said enthusiastically. We were still standing outside of the house, the porch shielding us from any rain.

"Oh, hey, come in," she said, now realizing what I had been thinking. We hurried inside, and Greg took my hand again. "You must be Greg's little girlfriend."

She took a step back and looked me up and down. For some reason, I felt extremely nervous, like she was going to tell Greg I wasn't good enough and he would just ship me off to Vegas. Though I knew that was irrational, it didn't stop my mind from wandering. "Bree, this is Lexi," Greg said, sounding like he was proud. "Lex, this is my cousin Bree."

She looked up at me and smiled. "I should have known Greg would get a short one," she said, shaking her head. I smiled slightly, and she stopped. "No offense though. Sorry."

"No big deal," I said, waving it away. "I'm 5'4, short for 28 years old."

She laughed, and then looked over at Greg. "I like this one," she said enthusiastically.

"Bree!" a voice yelled. She rolled her eyes, then took Greg's arm and led him down the hallway. I followed them unsurely, and Bree led us into what must have been the living room.

"Yes?" Bree asked, annoyed.

"Your _daughter _wants you," a very thin woman said spitefully. Bree just laughed, letting go of Greg's arm and walking into a different room of the house.

Greg stepped back and bent down. "Sorry, Bree's always like this."

"Don't worry about it," I said quietly, and looked around the room. "This house is beautiful."

"It's alright," he said, shrugging.

"No, Greg. It's amazing. I wish I had-"

"Uncle Greg!" a small voice shouted. A little girl, probably only like six, was standing next to Bree, looking at Greg with the widest eyes. She ran over to him, jumping into his arms and kissing his cheek. "I missed you!"

He laughed. "Missed you too, Sadie."

"Who is that?" she asked nosily, pointing to me. I smiled. I liked little kids, they just didn't always like me.

"That, Sadie," he said, looking at her and then looking at me. "Is my girlfriend, Lexi."

My breath caught. He just called me his girlfriend.

And it felt great.

"Oh," she said loudly, wiggling out of his arms. She walked over to me and stuck her hand out. "I'm Sadie Botell, nice to meet you, Lexi."

It was really hard not to 'awww', but I somehow refrained and shook her hand. "That means she likes you," Greg whispered in my ear, and I blushed profusely.

"Are we gonna go to the park?" Sadie whined, turning to look at her mom.

"Not in this rain," Bree sighed, looking out the wind. "Maybe if it lightens up, okay baby?"

"Yeah," Sadie said, disappointment dripping from her voice.

"Did I hear Greg?" a voice asked, and a man ran out of a room from somewhere down the hall.

"Yes," Greg's mother said from where she was cooking something inside the kitchen.

"Hey man!" the guy said, hugging Greg. "How've you been?"

"Great, actually. This is my girlfriend, Lexi." He said, introducing me. The man turned to me, smiling. My butterflies were still having seizures.

"Nice to meet you," he said, shaking my hand. "I'm Dallas, Bree's husband."

"Pleasure to meet you," I said with a grin, then turned to Greg, who was watching someone. I followed his gaze to an older woman, who was entering the room with a walker.

"She's not in the best state, Greg," Dallas said quietly so no one else could here. "But she's doing alright."

Greg nodded silently, before the woman turned and faced us. She ignored Greg, and loudly said, "Hvem er the vakker pike?"

I looked back at Greg, who was wearing a small smile.

"Hvem er Gregory's pikevenn, mor." His mother answered. Norwegian. It was recognizable.

The old woman turned to Greg, walking carefully past Sadie and Bree in her walker, and Greg enveloped her in a tight hug, but he was still gentle. When he let go, she pointed to me. "Gregory, hennes navn?"

I wished so badly I could understand what she was saying. "Hennes navn Alexandra, Nana Olaf," he answered softly, gesturing to me. Greg spoke Norwegian?

"Er Alexandra verdi beholde?" she asked him, still watching me. I felt uncomfortable, looking around at everyone, who was watching in awe. What were they gaping at?

"Ja, Nana Olaf, ja," Greg answered, laughing slightly. She nodded happily. Whatever she had asked, Greg had answered with a yes.

"Jeg glad til deg, snill gutt," she said enthusiastically, patting his shoulder.

Greg leaned over and whispered, "My grandmother."

"Can I meet her?" I asked, the words slipping out on accident. He didn't seem surprised at all, her just nodded.

"Nana Olaf, Alexandra hap to mote dem," he said, and the woman beamed and turned to me, opening her arms.

"Komme her, ung pike," she said, and Greg nudged me forwards. I exchanged a hug with the old woman, and she reminded me so much of Greg it was frightening. "Dem besette snill care of Gregory?"

I looked at Greg in confusion, and he smirked. "She asked if you take good care of me, Lex."

"Oh," I said, thinking. "How do you say yes, very good for me?"

There was a silence, and Greg just stared at me. I raised my eyebrows. "Ja, er meget snill till me," he whispered in my ear, and I smiled.

"Ja, Nana Olaf. Gregory er meget snill till me," I answered softly, and the old woman grinned.

"I som hennes, ung Hojem. Aerlig indre." She said, looking to Greg.

"Ja, Alexandra er aerlig, Nana Olaf," he said, smiling towards me.

"Dem bringe us vakker spebarns?" she asked, and there was a very filling silence before Greg glanced over at me.

"Say 'kanskje', Lex," he whispered to me.

I looked back at the old woman, who was still smiling while waiting for the answer to whatever she had asked. "Kanskje," I said, and she clapped her hands together.

"Ja, ja, ung Hojem!" she cheered, and Greg just smirked over at me.

"Hate to break this up, but dinner's ready," Mrs. Sanders called, and we all filed into the dining room, but an older man stopped me quickly.

Greg pretended not to notice and carried on towards the counter, where all the food was. "You are our Hojems girl, ja?" the older man asked me. I nodded, my face softening when I realized it was Greg's grandfather.

"Ja," I answered nervously, but the man smiled broadly at me.

"The vakker pike even tries our language!" he exclaimed, and Greg and his mother looked up, both grinning.

"I can't speak Norwegian well, sorry," I said, my eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

Greg came up beside me. "He said that the beautiful girl even tries their language," Greg said quietly, before embracing his grandfather in a tight hug.

"Ah, Hojem, good to see you." The old man replied, and Greg took my hand, leading me to the table.

"Is Dad coming?" Greg asked as he handed me the bowl of potatoes. I hadn't had a real Thanksgiving with my family, this felt so unfamiliar and…wonderful. It felt wonderful.

His mother cleared her throat. "Your father is on his way, Greg," she said, her voice almost inaudible.

"Good to hear," Greg sighed, his voice almost sounding angry. I touched his knee lightly, causing him to look over at me. I gave him a small smile, and his face relaxed.

"So," Bree said, sipping her wine. "Where did you two meet?"

I blushed, and Greg laughed. "We work together."

"Ooh, isn't that against the rules?" Dallas asked, sounding amused. "I'm pretty sure you told me a Christmas or two ago that your Supervisor left because he was engaged to one of your co-workers."

Greg rolled his eyes. "He retired," he said bitterly. I had no idea who they were talking about, even when they were speaking English. "And no one has to know about Lexi and I."

Bree smirked, and Greg's mother looked at us worriedly. "Their job's very dangerous," she said, stabbing her green beans with such force that scared me. "Lexi was shot about a month ago."

Everyone's eyes fell on me, and I could feel Greg tense up. "It was my fault," I explained. "I wasn't cautious, I should have had a uniform clear the scene."

"And what neither of them mentioned, is that Lexi saved a family's life," Greg spoke up, and I looked away, blushing. "6 people could have died."

"Wow," Dallas said, swallowing his turkey. "That's fantastic."

The door opened quickly, and Mrs. Sanders hurried to go greet whoever had just come in. There was hushed talking, and Greg looked over at me. "You'll have to forgive my mom," he whispered. "She's very anti-CSI for me."

Before I could respond, Mrs. Sanders led a man into the room and sat him down next to Greg. My jaw-dropped at the resemblance between the two, and the man clapped Greg's shoulder. "How are you, my boy?" he asked, and Greg just smiled slightly.

"I'm great, Dad. And you?" Greg returned to his food, as if avoiding conversation.

"Just wonderful," he said, dishing some turkey. "You brought a guest?"

"Uh, yeah," Greg said, sounding very uncomfortable. "This is my girlfriend, Lexi."

"Oh," the man said plainly, not even looking over at me. "Good for you."

Greg ran a hand through his hair, and everyone spent the rest of dinner already discussing plans for _Christmas_. I watched them and soon forgot about Greg's father, until everyone had finished their dinner. "The meal was wonderful, Aunt Kara," Bree said, smiling at Mrs. Sanders. "Don't you agree, Sadie?"

"It was good," Sadie said, then rubbed her hands together. "Desert time!"

I chuckled aloud with everyone else at the cuteness of Sadie, but Mrs. Sanders didn't hesitate and she leaped up to fetch the desert. "Okay, I've got chocolate cake and chocolate pudding," she announced, balancing the bowl and the pan. She grinned over at Greg.

"She knows you love chocolate," I mused quietly, and Greg smiled.

"All for her baby," he said, and squeezed my hand. "She cares too much."

"You can't care too much." The corners of his mouth twitched in slight agreeance, and Mrs. Sanders began cutting pieces of cake and tossing them around the table.

I ate about 5 bites of mine before glancing around the room. I was so full, I didn't think I could eat anything else in my entire life. "You're full, huh?" Mrs. Sanders guessed, grinning at me. Greg looked over, his mouth full of chocolate cake.

I nodded guiltily. "Liten legeme, liten mat." Nana Olaf spoke up, chuckling.

I looked over at Greg, who swallowed his food quickly. "Small girl, small food," he explained, and I giggled and nodded to Nana Olaf.

"Ja!" I said in agreeance, and she laughed even harder.

"Don't worry, Lexi," Mrs. Sanders said. "Give it to Gregory, he'll eat all of that."

"Yet your skinny as a rod," I muttered to Greg as I handed him my plate.

Once everyone had finished, we sat around in a very full silence. "Mommy!" Sadie suddenly shouted, pointing to the window. "Rain's all gone! We can go to the park!"

Bree seemed to ponder the idea, and stood up. "Yeah, baby girl, we can," she said, taking Sadie's hand. "You coming, Greg?"

Greg nodded and stood up, grabbing my hand and taking me with him. "We'll be back," he called, and I glanced back to see Dallas laughing with Papa Olaf about something or another.

We left the house and stepped into the cold air, Sadie not even caring. We began our descent to the park, Sadie leaving the way. "When do you go back to Minnesota?" Greg asked Bree as he swung our hands back and forth.

"Tomorrow," she responded, snatching Sadie's hand as she was about to cross the street. "Baby, you have to look both ways."

Sadie nodded and gave each way a quick look before sprinting across the street and over to the park. "You gonna be back here for Christmas?" Greg asked.

"No," she said, and touched her stomach. "Plane tickets are expensive, and we're expecting another one-"

"What?" Greg asked in disbelief, then looked over at his cousin. "You didn't tell me that!"

She shrugged. "It didn't really come up, Greg."

"Let's play tag!" Sadie called, leaping from the jungle gym and landing firmly onto the ground. "I'm it!"

When I was younger, tag was my favorite game. I was undefeated, always thinking up quick places to hide or running faster than the other kids. But let me tell you, running from Sadie? Hardest thing I've ever done.

I dove behind a bush gracefully, peaking up and watching her chase Greg around. He spun around and stuck his tongue out, enraging her to the point that she finally tagged him and ran away. He looked around, and spotting me, took off running in my direction.

I let out a shriek and stood up, watching him carefully. As soon as he reached me, I broke left and sprinted for the jungle gym with him right on my tail. I ran up the stairs, looked behind me and saw he was close. I went for the monkey bars, swinging from one to the other and feeling like I was really beating him.

And then he grabbed my legs.

He pulled me down, and I frowned at him while panting. "You're pretty good," he commented, breathing hard as well.

"Shut up," I snapped, and kissed him. He seemed surprised, but kissed me back.

"Ew, Mommy!" a voice shrieked, and I smiled into the kiss.

Greg pulled away and faced Sadie, who was frowning in disapproval. "Yeah, Greg, nasty." A voice said from behind us, and we turned around. A guy about Greg's age was standing there, leaning against the jungle gym

"Hey," Greg said flatly, stepping somewhat closer to me.

"You come back for good?" the guy asked, walking over to us. "Got a kid and everything? I heard her call your wife mommy, so-"

"That's Bree's daughter." Greg said, intertwining our fingers. "And this is my girlfriend, Lexi."

I waved awkwardly to the man, looking away quickly. "I'm Chase Michaels. Greg and I went to high school together."

"Chase was in the grade above mine," Greg explained awkwardly. "He was at the advanced high school I told you about."

"Oh," I said, nodding in understanding. "You were a genius too?"

"Only with the ladies," Chase smirked, and winked at me. Greg's jaw clenched. "So, how'd Greg get so lucky?"

Anger boiled inside of me upon seeing Greg blush and look away. "He's got good genetics." Chase looked at me like I was nuts. "You know, that's why he's so good looking. Genetics."

Greg squeezed my hand, and Chase laughed. "Sanders? Good looking?"

"Yes," I said, rolling my eyes. "Greg's better looking than you, that's for sure."

Chase stopped laughing and looked me dead in the eye. "That's a lie. Sanders only picked you because you're so much smaller, easier to control. Hell, I would go after you. Good sex. Nothing more, I hate dealing with dumb blondes longer than one night."

I blushed, and before I knew it, Greg had tackled Chase to the ground, easily overpowering him. I let him punch him a few times before Bree ran over, insisting I pull him off. I sighed, and yanked Greg off of Chase.

"You bastard!" Chase shouted, trying to run back at Greg, but I pushed him back myself. He pushed me back, forcing me to stumble backwards into Greg's arms.

Greg gripped my arm before I could go back at him. "Don't talk about my girlfriend like that," Greg spat, his grip on me easing. "Got it?"

"Look, Sanders, if you just brought a prostitute up here for the weekend or whatever-"

I leaped forward, despite Greg trying to stop me. I hit Chase as hard as I could, almost making him fall. I hit him again, and he just laughed, holding his jaw before swinging back at me.

I clutched my nose, falling backwards. I contained my tears, and could hear scuffling feet as I assumed Greg had went after Chase again.

"Are you okay, Lexi? Can you hear me?" Bree's worried voice asked. I nodded drowsily, and she helped me up to a standing position, my hand still clutching my nose. I looked over to where Greg had pinned Chase up against the wall, yelling something in his face. Bree ran over and forcefully pulled Greg off, dragging him away from Chase.

"Hey, you didn't have to do that," I told Greg as I pinched my nose, sticking my head in the air. "I'm fine."

"Shut up," Greg sighed, and looked at my nose. "Well, this is great. Mom will take you to the emergency room."

"Just get this blood off of my face," I said, reaching out my hand and feeling around for his own. I finally found it, and held it tightly. "Come on."

He laughed and began leading me towards the street, kissing me on the cheek and whispering in my ear, "You look hot with a bloody nose."

"No," I said irritably. "I look like a mess."

"Yeah, I just wanted to make you feel better," he said with a sigh, and I swatted his arm. "I thought you said you weren't a dude?"

"Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Now would be a good time to shut up."

…

"You were _fighting_?!" Mrs. Sanders screeched as she handed me a wet paper towel. There had been no talk of the emergency room quite yet, but there had been a lot of yelling.

"He was being an ass," Greg mumbled, and Mrs. Sanders pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Gregory, do not curse in my house!" she shrieked, causing Greg to roll his eyes.

"I'm 33, Mom." He said, walking over to me and taking the paper towel from my hands gently. He dabbed at my nose, making me wince.

"Lexi, dear, are you okay?" Mrs. Sanders asked me worriedly, touching my face gently.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Sanders," I promised, though it sounded nasally. "Really."

"You are not fine!" she fretted, trying to push Greg away.

"I got it, Mom." He said, keeping his position as he wiped away the last of my blood. "Feel better, Lex?"

"Yes," I sighed, and laid my head on his shoulder. "But I am freaking exhausted."

"Why don't you take Lexi home?" Mrs. Sanders suggested as her husband made his way down the stairs.

"Greg!" he barked, Greg closed his eyes before turning around.

"Yes?" he asked, smiling at his dad.

"Papa Olaf tells me you got in a fight," he stated, and Greg shook his head.

"It wasn't really a fight, Dad," he explained, and took my hand. He began to pull us towards the door. "And we really have to go."

"Not so fast," his dad ordered, and Greg stopped dead in his tracks. "I don't want you fighting, young man."

"I'm 33," Greg reminded his parents once again, tightening his grip on my hand. "I was standing up for Lexi."

"And look where fighting got her!" he shouted, gesturing to my nose which I was still holding a napkin to. "If you had been a bit smaller, that would have been you!"

"We gotta go," Greg said, pulling me to the door. "I'll call you, Mom."

"Goodbye Gregory!" she called as we stepped outside. "Bye Lexi!"

Before I could say anything back to Mrs. Sanders, Greg slammed the door shut and pulled me over to the Denali. I carefully got in, bucking my seatbelt and relaxing in my seat. "You don't even know how sorry I am." He said to me, looking me in the eye. "My family's nuts."

"I love them!" I exclaimed, grinning. "Your grandmother is amazing."

"Yeah, she is." He agreed, and started to drive towards our hotel.

"I'm your girlfriend?" I asked softly, and he looked over and raised an eyebrow.

"You wanna be?" He turned left, then glanced at me slowly.

"Rhetorical question," I sighed as we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. "Of course I do."

He smiled, looking satisfied. "I'm so tired." He complained, stepping out of the car. I followed him into the hotel, and we took our usual shortcut of the stairs, and once again raced each other to our room.

I jumped onto the bed first this time, closing my eyes. Greg lied down next to me and kissed my nose gently. I opened my eyes. "You have no idea how much that hurt."

"Sorry," he apologized, and kissed my lips this time, just softly.

My phone rang. He pulled away, grabbed it from my coat pocket and tossed it to me. "Smith."

"She's gone, Lexi," a voice sobbed. The voice sounded so freakishly familiar, yet far away.

"Who is this?" I asked, the breath being pulled away from me.

"It's Marigold, Lexi," my cousin's voice croaked out. "Aunt Melinda…she's dead!"

"My…my mom?"

"Yes, your mom!" she screeched into the phone. "Your mom is fucking _dead!_"

….

**A/N: Oh God, this chapter was one of my favorites to write, but also one of the hardest. It was really hard because I had to A) research the shit out of Norwegian words. And yeah, they're ALL correct. (Brownies for me, fuck yeah!) and B) Writing about Greg's family was really difficult for me? Haha yeah no clue why. His dad will be explained later, I promise!**

**And God, who just adored Nana Olaf?! I did! Plus Bree and Sadie! Cuties3 **

**Greg and Lexi officially boyfriend and girlfriend?! Yes!**

**You have to love me for all the freaking fluff between them, right? Right?**

**Yeah okay. REVIEW THOUGH! REVIEW! PLEASE!:D**

**Thanks my lovelies3**


	10. Arrangments and Paintings

"No, no no no!" I said, my voice tight, forcing me to push the words out. "Marigold, you have to be mistaken."

You think this is a joke?" she cried into the phone. "My family is the only family here right now, because her own fucking daughter is too selfish!"

"Marigold, Casey told me she had a week to live! I was coming tomorrow!" Greg held my other hand patiently, and I figured he already understood what was going on.

"Well she didn't!" she yelled, and I winced. Marigold and I, we used to be friends. Until I left my mom, and then she blocked me out of her life completely for no reason at all

"I'll be there soon," I said unevenly, not knowing what to do. My head was spinning so fast I couldn't think, like when we were in the orchards and Greg got stabbed. It wouldn't slow down, my mind was reeling.

"Don't even worry about it," she grumbled into the phone. "Just…come to my house tomorrow morning so we can discuss funeral arrangements, Alexandra."

The name in which I had been called all evening by Greg's family seemed ruined by the way she said it. _Alexandra. _Lexi was upbeat and strong, Alexandra was boring, and quite frankly, reminded me of some damsel in distress. Which I was not about to become.

"What time?" Greg began playing with my hair, and I could already feel my heartbeat slowing down immensely.

"10, okay? Funeral's gonna be on Saturday."

"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

"Yeah, good luck with your grieving day."

Those words struck me, and I caught my breath. Those were the words that Marigold had told me after I killed my father, after I was stuck being cooped up in my room and dealing with the aftermath of my father's death. She had crawled up the stairs quietly. We'd spoken in hushed whispers about the entire thing, and I'd said I hated my mother. That's when Marigold decided I really wasn't a part of the family. Marigold's mother, my Aunt Helen, had died when we were much younger, so my mother was kind of like…her mother. Something Marigold resented me for. And now that she was dead, it must have felt like Helen dying all over again.

"Hey, are you okay?" Greg's words pulled me out of my thoughts quickly, and I blinked.

"I don't really know," I admitted, and laid back down on the bed. "I'm so sorry, Greg. I've ruined this entire week and-"

"You did not, I promise," he assured me, and he laid down next to me. "My family is crazy."

"Your family's crazy?" I chuckled, and turned to look at him. "No, Greg. Your family is normal."

"Please," he scoffed, and stared at the ceiling in a daze. "My dad's an ass, who's never really been around because of work. My mom's a worrying freak. Bree and Dallas are normal, though Dallas is kind of an airhead while Bree's a school teacher."

"Sadie's cute," I said quietly. "And your grandparents are wonderful."

He smiled to himself. "My Nana Olaf is wonderful, isn't she?" I nodded in response. "She really likes you."

"I wish I had known that earlier, you know, when you guys were speaking Norwegian," I sighed, and watched the hotel ceiling carefully.

"You wanna know what she said?" he asked quietly, turning his head to me. I nodded. "She asked my mom who the beautiful girl was."

"Did she?" I asked lightly, acting like it was no big deal. He nodded.

"And then she asked me if you were worth it." I met his eyes now. "I said yes."

"Then what?" I giggled, feeling his words glide through my ears. I was worth it.

"Then you met her," he breathed, scooting closer to me. "And she told me you were honest inside, and I agreed. And then she asked if we'd bring her beautiful babies."

My heart must have stopped for a moment, and I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. Was I upset because Greg, who had just become my boyfriend yesterday, had most likely told his Nana Olaf he would father my children, or was I ecstatic that he said that?

"And what'd you tell me to tell her?" I whispered, our faces mere inches away from each other.

"You told her maybe." The answer was good enough for me, and I kissed him lightly.

"You know all the right things to say, young Hojem," I teased, and he rolled his eyes.

"Don't repeat that at work," he said, moving my bangs from my face. "Or I'll tell everyone you got in a fight."

I glared at him. "You tell people I got in a fight, I'll have to tell everyone you invited me to Thanksgiving," I declared, smiling innocently at him.

"Yeah, which has now turned into a whole other thing," he sighed and kissed my forehead. "When's your mother's funeral?"

"Saturday," I said dryly. "You should go back to Vegas, I'll be back Sunday evening."

"No way," he said, shaking his head. "I'm going with you."

"What? No, Greg, it's going to be a madhouse and-"

"Aren't people supposed to be together through thick and thin?" he reminded me, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes," I admitted quietly, and he held my hand gently.

"This is thick. We'll get back to Vegas, all will be thin," he said in a hushed voice, biting his lip.

Which was so freaking cute. Again.

"Stop that," I breathed, closing my eyes.

"Stop what?" he asked, chuckling at the end.

"Biting your lip, Greg. It's too cute."

"Maybe I could bite someone else's lip?" he suggested, his eyes falling on my mouth when I opened my eyes.

"If you're lucky," I said, and stood up, heading for my bags. "But for now, its bedtime."

"Yes, mom," he grumbled as I headed into the bathroom, letting him change in the room. But when I came out, he was lying bed reading the Bible again.

"Does home remind you of church?" I asked quietly, crawling into bed next to him.

"There's this old verse," he said, and pointed to it. "Reminded me a lot of, you know, the current situation."

"Revelation 21:4," I read, and I felt my eyes dart to a very much relaxing Greg. "_He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away._"

I looked at him seriously. "I get that he was more or less talking about becoming the new God, but…think of the quote in a way that applies to your mom."

"Because I am relieved that the weight's been taken off of my shoulders…that's why I'm not crying?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I would assume so." He answered.

"Only took a bible and you to figure that out," I said, kissing his cheek. "You're the best."

"That's my line."

"Not right now, young Hojem," I whispered to him as he flicked off his lamp and we sat in darkness. "Not right now."

…

I woke up early the next morning, running around like a madwoman to get ready. My clothes needed to be ironed, my hair was a mess. And in the midst of all my running around, Greg was still sound asleep.

Lazy.

I think I finally woke him up when I slammed the ironing table together and shoved it in a closet rather violently. My hair was still drying, since the freaking outlets in the hotel were refusing to function with my blow dryer.

"You need a hand?" he asked groggily, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"I have to leave in an hour," I said frantically, not even going in the bathroom as I got dressed. He was sleeping, he wouldn't know a thing.

"So do I then," he grumbled, and as I had just pulled on my shirt, he fell right out of the bed.

I rolled my eyes. "You're not going."

"Yes, I am," he insisted. "Now let me through so I can shower."

I groaned. "You better be fast, Greg."

"Yeah, yeah, I will be," he muttered, then shoved me out of the room gently with my curling iron and makeup bag.

I hurriedly looked everywhere for my shoes, though I couldn't find them. I sighed, figuring they were in the bathroom. I did my makeup carefully, though I jumped when Greg flung the bathroom door open and walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Yes?" I asked, stifling a laugh.

He glared. "You took my pants."

I was seriously confused now. I hadn't even been in the bathroom since Greg had shoved me out. "No," I said, shaking my head. "You pushed me out, remember?"

His expression softened some, but not completely. "Then where are they?"

I looked past him, into the bathroom. "Greg, did you check on the counter?"

He looked behind him, and then looked back at me. His cheeks were red, and I burst out laughing. Finally, some brightness to my morning. "Innocent until proven guilty, remember?"

"Yeah, right. You're never innocent!" he shouted from behind the now closed door. As my hair finally reached a level of dryness, I snatched my curling iron and stood by the bathroom door.

Greg opened the door, his aftershave making the butterflies in my stomach wake up. "Thanks," I said, pushing past him and into the bathroom, hurriedly plugging it in.

"Don't you have to wait for those things to heat up?" he asked curiously from the doorway.

"Yes," I answered. I leaned against the counter and faced him.

"You nervous?" I frowned.

"Yes," I responded, and he nodded.

"Hey, you should really lay off eating late at night," he said, and grinned. "You talk in your sleep."

"And you're just now noticing this?" I turned around, picking up my curling iron and rushing to do my hair.

"You were speaking some Norwegian," he said, shrugging. I couldn't remember my dream from the night before, but who does? "You were talking about me."

"Greg, I don't speak Norwegian," I sighed, releasing my hair from the curling iron's grip.

"But you were last night!" he said happily. "Woke me up twice."

"And what was I talking about?" I laughed, looking at him in the mirror.

"'The spebarn for Nana Olaf'," he quoted, wiggling his eyebrows. "Got a lot on your mind, I guess."

"Spebarn?" I breathed, trying to remember what the word meant. And then I remembered: baby.

My cheeks heated up, and he chuckled. "It's cool. Nana Olaf loves her babies," he said, coming up from behind me and unplugging my curling iron.

"I wasn't done," I growled, and he shrugged.

"You look great, so I guess you are," he said simply, and pulled me away from the mirror, shutting the light off behind us. He checked his watch. "We'll be a little early."

"I'm driving," I said quietly, and he raised his eyebrows at me. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "It's nothing."

"Good," I said, smiling at him. "Let's get the hell out of here then."

…

Knocking on the door nervously, Greg had taken my hand in his. "I'm sure she's not that bad," he whispered in my ear.

The door flew open before I could say anything. "Lexi." Marigold answered, her red hair lying on her back.

"Nice to see you, Marigold," I said awkwardly, and she held her door open even more for me. I gave a wave of thanks and pulled Greg in with me. "Um, Marigold, this is my boyfriend, Greg."

Greg and Marigold exchanged a wave, although she seemed to lighten up at the sight of him. Great, maybe a cute guy would prevent her from being such a bitch. "Come on, I have coffee."

We followed her into her kitchen, which looked like a typical young college student's house. Odd paintings and plates, pottery lining the walls. "The house looks nice," I commented, and she glared down at me.

"You don't paint anymore, do you?" she asked, her words like ice.

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "Not since Tanner destroyed all of them."

"I think you should," Marigold said quietly, pouring three cups of coffee. A file with many papers inside sat on her table, and I was tempted to look through it. "You were very talented."

"Thank you," I said, looking over at her coffee mugs. "But I haven't painted in years…"

Greg looked over at me nervously, and she handed us our coffee. "So, Teresa and I have come up with most of the arrangements," she said, sitting down and motioning for us to do the same. "We just need you to sign off on a few things."

I cleared my throat. "What kind of arrangements, Marigold?" I asked, my eyes dropping to the papers she was trying to hide from me.

She rolled her eyes. "Alexandra, stop worrying. It was just the cemetery stuff, ashes, flower arrangements-"

"What about the ashes?" I asked, leaning closer to her. She looked away. "I'm the only one entitled to those ashes, Marigold. Legally speaking."

She closed her eyes. "Yes, Alexandra. Please don't remind me. Besides, how long has it been since you spoke to your mother?"

"12 years," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. "Why?"

"I was here, speaking with your mother for the past 12 years. And where have you been? You run off and shoot people every day," she said snobbishly, glaring at me. "I deserved everything in that will."

"And where did it go?" I hissed.

"I have it here," she said, sounding formal again. She dug through papers, and pulled one out. She looked at it, appearing pained, before she slid it across the table to me.

"Thank you," I said, but she stopped me with a hand.

"There's more," she sighed, and reached down into a box that was beside her foot. She pulled out a huge file, and tossed it to me. I caught it my hands.

"What's this?" I asked, opening it slightly.

"Letters," she sighed, and wiped her eyes. Was she crying? Heartless Marigold? Crying?

"From who?" I replied.

"Aunt Melinda," she whispered, referring to my mother. "She wrote them to you while she was in the hospital, some of them even before that."

"Oh," I said, shocked at this. "Thanks, then."

"_And_," she added, now shaking her head. "There's boxes upon boxes in that house you need to take care of. She's left you the whole flipping house, though it's already been sold."

"Huh?" I asked, confused. How could it be sold if she left it to me?

"She left you everything inside the house," Marigold answered, rolling her eyes and breathing deeply. "Of all people, Alexandra, she left _you _the house. And much more, but that's all in the will."

I looked at her skeptically. "The ashes? What about the ashes?"

She grumbled something before standing up and walking into the other room. Greg took the opportunity to look over at me and say, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, nodding. "Didn't think mom would leave my all this though."

"Maybe she did care," he said quietly, and I glared at him. "Just guessing."

"Marigold wants all of the money, everything," I said, shaking my head. "Dad left mom so much money…she probably left all of that to someone else."

"We'll look at it later," he promised, and kissed my forehead. "But for the record: Marigold? Looks nothing like you."

I smiled. "Marigold's mom was a red-head like her," he nodded. "Aunt Helen was just…the sweetest lady. Don't know what happened to Marigold and my mom."

"I got it," she announced, coming out of a room with a mason jar in her hand. She sat down again, sliding it across the table to me.

"Thanks," I said, gripping it my hands. My mom. In a jar. "Is there any particular place anyone wanted them spread?"

"Do what you want with them," is all she said in response. I nodded, and set them back on the table.

"Is there anything else?" I asked, biting my lip out of nervousness. Damn you, Greg. Putting this habit on me. "What do I need to pay?"

She chuckled grimly, and looked up at me. "Nothing, Alexandra. Your smart mother put aside a whole two thousand dollars for us to spend on the funeral."

I was taken aback. She had defidentally known she was dying. "That was…considerate…of her."

Marigold laughed aloud, shaking her head. "Aunt Melinda really was something else. But your sister, Casey? Biggest bitch ever."

I giggled, feeling my old cousin coming back now. "Yeah, she is," I said, and stood up. "I'll see you Saturday, Marigold."

"Of course," she said, her tone slightly lighter. I had Greg carry the big ass file and I took the ashes and small files, along with the will.

She walked us out to the driveway, where it was drizzling. "I'll be by the house this afternoon," I said to her. "Get all of the stuff I want to keep out of there. The rest of the stuff-"

"Leave whatever you don't want there," she said strictly, and I nodded. "I'll take it. There's not a lot left really, Aunt Melinda had specific things left to specific people…well, just read the will, then you'll get it."

I nodded. "Thanks for everything, Marigold," I waved goodbye and we got in the Denali. "Bye."

And with that, we pulled out of the driveway.

…

My phone began ringing suddenly, and I jerked awake. We were still in the car, and Greg was driving along the freeway happily, Marilyn Manson playing softly from the stereo. I fumbled around to grab it from where it had slipped underneath the passenger seat. "Smith."

"You're in Los Angeles." A voice stated from the end, and I immediately recognized it. Morgan.

"Um, yeah," I said uneasily. "My family's from here."

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother," Morgan said, and I knew that if I tried to fake it, she would sniff out the lie.

"Thanks," I muttered, sitting up.

"You're with Greg?" she asked, and I closed my eyes.

"Listen, you promise to not tell your dad, and I'll explain everything later," I assured her, and she was silent.

"Fine, you owe me the whole story."

"Absolutely," I promised, and I heard her laugh.

"I was right! And you were wrong! I was right! And you were wrong!" she sang, and I groaned.

"Save it for later, okay?" I begged, and she shut up.

"See you later, Lexi."

"Yeah, bye Morgan."

"She knows, huh?" Greg asked quietly from next to me. I shut the phone and nodded. "I swore we just passed her…"

"Which would be how she knows," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "And I cannot believe I just fell asleep."

"Yeah, we've only been driving for like 10 minutes," he pointed out. "You are beyond tired."

"It's been exhausting," I said, and touched my nose. "Still bruised." He just chuckled, then pulled into the hotel parking lot. "Out."

He turned and looked at me. "Huh?"

I blushed. "Sorry, I just…I'm going to my mom's house now, and I want to go alone."

He nodded and kissed my cheek. "Have fun, take as much time as you need."

I nodded and climbed into the driver's seat from the passenger one, and he shut the door for me. I gave a heartfelt wave goodbye, and he smiled in response. Here I go. Back to where I ran away from 12 years ago.

….

The key that Marigold had given me was now shaking in my hands. I had set down the countless files on the porch of our huge house, and stuck the key in. As I turned, something in heart screamed at me, like I was sticking a key in that and opening it.

And as the old door swung open, I felt my chest become…empty. Like something compressed just let up for a second. I scooped up the files and rushed in, shutting the door tightly behind me.

The house still smelled of my mother's perfume, something I always got annoyed with. The smell was sickeningly sweet. Nonetheless, I set the files down on the kitchen table, turned my cell phone off, and set off walking through the house. The kitchen was bare, and I made the assumption that mom had left the fridge and stove to my dad's uncle, George. He was very old, but an amazing chef.

I exited the kitchen and sighed as I saw the entire downstairs had been cleaned out thoroughly. Whatever had been down here, had been sold. I started walking up the stairs, looking at my paintings that lined the staircase walls. Something my mother had actually taken pride in me for was my incredible artistic ability. Was it really that artistic and fantastic? That was based off of interpretation, as is anything. But I had been offered a scholarship to UCLA to join their art program. I had declined, because I just didn't think art was not my destined career. Being a CSI was.

I watched the paintings, remembering them fondly. The one of the apple tree that stood in our backyard. After my dog had died, Dad had buried him under the apple tree upon my request, and that spring was the only spring that apples bloomed. And the next painting, of myself and Marigold. It was brilliant, had placed 1st in the entire Southern California young artists competition. The grand prize was 4,000 dollars, but I gave the money to my schools art program, since I couldn't really find a use for it.

A pang struck me slightly as I surveyed the next one. It was a portrait I had painted of Monique Delaray, a girl in my grade who had committed suicide. The parents had asked me to paint a picture of her, like a professional job. But I refused payment. Monique was in the science club with me, even if we weren't close. But she was still dead.

I caught my breath at the next painting. I'd painted it weeks after my father died and coincidentally just a few days before I left home…I didn't think anyone had ever seen it. The picture of my father's tombstone, with me sitting next to it, head in my hands. I frowned at the portrait, and part of me could just imagine myself ripping it off the wall in anger. My mom had gone through my room. That was the only way she could find it. But I decided that I'd take it with me, and gently pulled it off the wall. The only thing I really had to remember my dad by.

I stepped into my old bedroom, and my heart hammered wildly. It looked completely different. My things were boxed up carefully, and the room was bare. One box read "painting supplies" while another read "science and chemistry supplies". I didn't remember ever packing things up like that, and noticed the handwriting was my mothers. I smiled to myself. The cold wooden floor was still there, coated in dust. I leaned over to one box, which read "high school, middle school yearbooks". It was full. I leaned into my closet, most of my clothes packed in boxes. And hanging on the rack was my letterman jacket, fully decorated with science and art honors, as well as a continuing 4.0 GPA throughout high school. I remembered that I had once returned home, only to dump my high school items on my bed and leave. That was the night I left for Stanford.

I picked up the sleeve of the jacket, and looked next to it. My prom dress was still in its plastic, having only been worn on the night of prom and the day I tried it on with my mother at the dress shop. She had taken so much time to make sure that I had looked perfect. I wandered over to my full-length mirror, and could see my senior portrait taped to it. Smiling me, braces freshly off. I had looked the better in that picture than I had in my entire adolescence. I looked from the picture to my face now, seeing the small resemblance. I was prettier now, and I had grown an inch maybe. I shook my head upon seeing the photograph. I rushed downstairs, now knowing what I had to do now that I was in my room, probably for the last time in my entire life.

I snatched the files from the table, and rushed back up the stairs with them in my hands. I sat down slowly on the hardwood floor, taking a breath. I opened the one that read "letters", and picked up the one on top.

_Dear Alexandra,_

_12 years I've gone without speaking to the only child I have. I guess I had replaced you with Casey, which is absurd (she was your father's daughter, not mine.) and Marigold. I should start off by apologizing for that first. Sorry._

_And then I should also apologize for snooping through your room. The night you came back, the night you left for Stanford, I had heard you. I was too scared to come and see you, I figured you'd slip out the window at the sight of me. So I left you alone to do what you needed to do, but now that I'm on my deathbed…Alexandra, I just wish we had been closer. Your father was a wedge between us, but I loved him. You did too, because there were times that he didn't resemble the big bad wolf. _

_Your pictures are gorgeous. But Casey has told me that you left the San Diego crime lab to go to Las Vegas. She said you were getting back at her by making her boyfriend cheat on her? I hope that's not true. Oh God, look at me. Nagging and picking when I'm dying. _

_I know you hate me, I know you hate Marigold and Casey. But all that's left to say is…sorry. _

I looked up from the letter, and flipped it over. Taped to the back was a check. My eyes bulged at the number. 100,000 dollars. And that was separate from the will.

Mom was still trying to care of me.

Even when she was dead.

**A/N: BAM! I cannot believe it's been 10 chapters already!:) Thank you everyone for your continued support and I promise that by the end of next chapter Lexi and Greg are going back to Vegas to solve crimes and stuff! I love them!3**

**Do you like Marigold? I think she's a bitch(that's what her characters supposed to be, so…). And did you like the bit about the paintings? I really feel like we don't know Lexi as well as we could, which is why I added all of that in. **

**I hope you liked it!(: REVIEW! REVIEW! Thanks pretties!(:**


	11. Returning to Vegas

**Disclaimer: Don't own CSI.**

I closed my eyes and folded up the letter, putting it back with the rest of them. I grabbed my boxes of chemistry and art supplies, and hauled them out to the Denali. I yanked the backseat door open and slid the heavy boxes in, hearing a small crash from inside them. As I went back into my room, I looked around once more. I ripped the picture off the mirror, stuffing it into my pocket. I stomped back down the hallway, snatching every single one of my paintings off the walls, tossing them into the backseat as well. Anger had immersed me suddenly.

I did a single look around my room before noticing my clothes, and hoisted that box up as well, carrying the letterman jacket and prom dress on my shoulder. I set them into the passenger seat gently, still having no clue how the hell I would get this crap back to Vegas.

"Lexi?" a voice called out, and I spun around, my hand flying to where I usually kept my gun. But of course, while roaming around LA, I hadn't taken it with me. "Lexi Smith?"

My eyes refocused on a guy about my age, and I raised my eyebrows. "Do I know you?"

He looked taken aback. "We grew up right next to each other," he reminded me. "Austin Fox?"

The name flooded back to me as I did indeed remember that he had been my neighbor. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, I didn't really remember, just a lot on my mind-"

"Still awkward as ever, I see," he noted, and I shrugged. "What are you doing here? I thought you ran off and swore to never come back."

"My mom's dead," I explained shortly, and he nodded.

"I know. Terrible week for it to happen. Thanksgiving and all…"

"I would be in Vegas," I said, and motioned for him to follow me into the house. "My boyfriend's family lives in San Gabriel."

I couldn't figure out why I was spilling my soul to this kid. When we were younger, he'd teased me relentlessly. He's the one who tripped me in the lunchroom freshman year. He was the one who'd thrown my boyfriend in the trash when we were talking. And he was the one who made Monique Delaray kill herself. But I couldn't stop my mouth from running and- "Hello?"

I pulled away from my thoughts, now realizing I had reached my mother's room. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"Yeah, I asked what the hell you were doing in Vegas," he answered, then looked around the room. "Old place."

"Yeah, I know," I breathed, and pointed to a box. "Take that one. And I'm in Vegas because I work there."

"Stripper?" he laughed, picking up the box. I hit him in the arm, and I couldn't help but think of how much this reminded me of when Greg and I hit each other. But it wasn't like that. Greg was my boyfriend, not Austin.

"Yeah, right," I laughed, pulling yet another 2 paintings off my mother's walls and following him out to my car. "Not quite the right body type."

He shrugged. "Small, petite little girl like you? That stuff turns on some guys."

I chuckled. "I'm a CSI," I said, going back into the house for one last time and scanning it. And then it hit me. The top of moms closet. Where the most valuable treasure of all lied. "Stay here."

I took off walking down the hall and into my mom's room, not hearing Austin's footsteps following me. I sighed in relief and remembered the closet. On top, there was always a birthday present for me. Mom and Dad did spoil me in that sense (they were filthy rich, why not?) and always hid presents on top of the closet, since I was too short to reach them.

I was probably too short still, but had more time to climb up there. I figured there would be something because I had left the week before my 17th birthday, and mom always planned ahead, regardless of the circumstances. I jumped up, seeing a box and bag on top. I groaned, and stood on the bed like I used to do when I was younger. I leaped off of the bed, and gripped my hands around the hanger rack. I skillfully pulled myself up, and I sat on the very top shelf of the closet. It was crowded, but it would do.

My eyes widened at the sight of so many things. A shoebox and a bag full of what I assumed was clothes, all of them pretty much useless since the 2000's look of short shirts and flashy things was over. I sighed, but threw the box and bags onto the bed. And sitting next to all of that, another shoebox. When I shook it, I heard nothing but shuffling inside. I tossed it down onto the bed, and hopped away from the closet.

I carried out the two boxes and bag, Austin looking around the kitchen. I tossed him the boxes, sighing as he caught them. He followed me out to the car, and I decided that was all I ever wanted from this house. "Thanks," I said quietly, making sure I had grabbed all of the files.

"You, uh…you doing anything tomorrow?" Austin asked, stuffing his hands in my pocket.

"My mom's funeral, then I'm going back to Vegas," I said shortly, leaning against the Denali and watching him.

He nodded, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry about teasing you all those years," he apologized, his eyes dropping to the ground. "It was wrong."

I shrugged. "Your life worked out, my life worked out, and I learn to forgive and forget," I said simply, and he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Monique Delaray's life didn't work out." I frowned.

"And maybe the jock football star will think twice now before calling someone fat and ugly every single day," I snapped, rolling my eyes as I double checked everything in my backseat.

"You know I wouldn't have done it if I thought it would have gotten to that point," he said, narrowing his eyes at what I was doing.

"It was still cruel," I pointed out, shutting the door. "And besides, you already apologized to her parents and family, you received a suspension from high school. I'm missing the part where there's a problem that interferes with your life."

"The guilt eats me up," he said, rubbing his temples. "Knowing that your own immature actions are the reasons some chick killed herself is maddening."

"It was her decision, not yours." I said, walking over to the driver's side. "See you tomorrow, Austin."

And with that, I drove off, trying to ignore the pity party going on in my old driveway.

….

"Morgan, you're driving back to Vegas tomorrow right?" I asked into the phone as I stuck my room key into the door.

"Yeah, you need something?" she answered, and I could hear laughter in the background.

"I picked up a bunch of stuff from my old house," I explained. "And I was wondering if I could just stick it in your car and have you drive it back to Vegas?"

"Of course," she said, and the laughter in the background ceased. I entered the room, seeing Greg fast asleep on the bed. "Glad I drove here."

I laughed quietly so I didn't wake up Greg. "Yeah, I really am too," I said, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. "How about I meet you at LAX, okay? Around 3 in the afternoon? My flight leaves at 6 and there's quite a bit of stuff…"

"No problem," she said. "I'll see you then."

"Yeah, see you then," I said distantly. "Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up and dug through my bag, dying for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I successfully found them and pulled them on, sighing with relief when I saw it was almost 4 in the afternoon. Plenty of time to just sit and relax.

As I exited the bathroom, I could see Greg was still passed out. I felt victorious as I laid down in the bed, knowing I hadn't woken him up. I rested my head in the pillow, my eyes begging me to sleep. My nights had been restless, usually consisting of Greg talking quietly to me until midnight. Which decreased my hours of sleep by quite a bit.

"You're back soon," Greg grumbled from next to me.

"Go back to sleep," I instructed. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Woke up on my own," he said, shaking his head. "Now I probably won't sleep tonight."

I laughed, looking over at him. "So all you do is sleep when you're bored?"

"Can't get enough of it!" he said enthusiastically. "But Russell did call me."

"Oh?" I rolled over so I could see him straight on.

"Yeah. He said to tell you he's sorry to hear about your mother," Greg said casually, and my eyes widened.

"Russell knows we're here together?" I yelped, and Greg just chuckled.

"Yeah. I didn't tell him, I think he figured it out." I moaned, putting my head in my pillow.

"He's going to _fire _my ass, Greg!"

Greg rubbed my back slowly, shifting so he was right next to me. "No, he won't. I promise, Lex."

"But he has to!" I yelled, my voice muffled.

"No, he doesn't. He can just suspend you or something, which he probably will. And listen, as long as we're not making out on the job, I really doubt he'll care," he said quietly in my ear.

I pulled my head away from the pillow. "You're too good to me," I whispered, and he kissed my forehead.

"Yeah, I know," he said, and I hit him. I rolled over so my head was lying on his chest. "God, you're too tiny."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that, scrawny?"

He stroked by hair gently, closing his eyes. "You just are. You've got your head on me and I can hardly feel it."

I shrugged. "I personally like being short."

"Even if I'm 7 inches taller than you?"

"Shut up," I said playfully, and he ruffled my hair. "Hey!"

"What?" he asked innocently, and I glared at him.

"That was my hair," I reminded him, and he shrugged.

"It's soft," he commented, and I blushed.

"Is it your goal on life to make me blush?" I sighed, relaxing my entire body.

"Maybe," he said, kissing my cheek and leaving my hair alone. "How'd things go at your mom's house?"

"Everything went…weird." I said, shaking my head. "My mom's letters were all one huge ass apology, she'd packed up my entire room before she died, and she found the painting I never wanted her to see…ran into my old neighbor bully person…just a weird day."

He raised his eyebrows. "Old neighbor bully person?"

"Austin Fox. Used to live right next to me, was a real ass," I said, shrugging.

"And the painting? By the way, you never told me you painted," he said grumpily, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"It was a hobby, no big deal," I said halfheartedly. "And yeah, a painting of my dad's tombstone and me-"

"You have it with you?" he asked, now rubbing circles in my back again.

"Yeah," I said, nodding before shifting so we were face to face.

"Can I see it?" he asked anxiously. I hesitated before looking into his brown eyes and caving.

"Come on," I grumbled, getting out of bed as he unwrapped his hands from my waist. I slipped on my Uggs, not really caring if people thought I was a slob. I tossed on a sweatshirt, watching as Greg slipped on jeans and a shirt before he put on his sneakers. "Getting dressed up to go out into the parking lot?" He turned and smirked at me, rolling his eyes. He hurried and snagged my hand, and dragging me out of the hotel. "It's raining. You realize that, right?"

He didn't answer, but stopped and stood in the rain when we reached the Denali. I opened the passenger seat door and crawled in carefully, Greg following me. I leaned against the opposite door as he scanned all of the pictures before picking the Apple Tree up and gazing at it. "This is…freaking amazing."

"Thanks," I remarked quietly, looking away from it.

He went through the rest of them, stopping at Monique Delaray's picture. "I went to her funeral," he muttered, his eyes widening. "She was a history genius. I went against her in a chess match once. This picture was at the funeral. Were you?"

I shook my head. "I would have been, but I was at an open art show that weekend."

He nodded solemnly, picking up the tombstone. "This is great," he whispered, glancing over at me. "How come you never showed me this stuff before? They're fantastic."

"Are they now?" I mused, and he nodded fervently. "They're also kind of personal."

He shrugged, and set the painting back before pulling me over to sit next to him. There was a comfortable silence, and he smiled slightly in my direction. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

I contemplated this in my mind before answering. "Yes," I sighed. "Marigold, Casey, all of them…they're freaking nuts."

"Of course," he said understandingly. "But as soon as it's over, we go back to Vegas. And everything is back to normal."

I stared at the ground, hating what I was about to say. "Greg…do you think we should stop? I mean, even if you say we won't, we could both lose our jobs."

He didn't even freak out, he was silent. "I don't think we should," he muttered, holding my hand and running his thumb over my knuckles. "Really."

"But what if we get fired?" I asked, looking anxiously at him now.

"Then we get fired," he said simply, and it was then that I realized that it didn't matter. Greg and I would be together, and if anyone had a problem with it…then they could deal with it.

"Yeah," I said softly, intertwining our fingers. "We shouldn't worry about them."

"And Lex, I really, _really _doubt Russell of Ecklie will do anything about it," he assured me. "Maybe a suspension. But they won't fire us."

"I hope you're right," I sighed, lying my head against his shoulder.

"I always am!" he scoffed, and I just chuckled.

…

Stepping out of the Denali, I was still trying to hide my small tears that had slid down my face during the funeral. It had been crowded and beautiful, and I just sat at the front with Marigold and her brother TJ. There had little or no talking, and now that we were at the reception, this is where people usually wanted to speak with you.

Greg held my hand, our fingers intertwined as we entered the Los Angeles Memorial Hall, which was extremely expensive and difficult to rent out. "You sure you're alright?" he asked quietly as he leaned down. I nodded and straightened out the black dress I was wearing.

"Lexi?" a voice asked from behind me, and I groaned inwardly as I turned around.

"Hey, Austin," I said awkwardly, and Greg looked back and forth between he and I.

"The funeral was beautiful," he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. "Really."

"Thanks, but you should really tell Marigold that," I told him, pointing to my sobbing cousin in the corner.

"_That's _Marigold?" he asked in shock. I scrunched my eyebrows.

"Well, yeah," I said, like it was obvious.

"I haven't seen her since she was 12," he admitted, and I watched as Greg stifled a laugh next to me. Austin's eyes were glued to my grieving cousin, which seemed inappropriate on so many levels.

"Daddy!" a little girl called, and rushed over to Austin, attaching herself to his leg. I raised my eyebrows in surprise as Austin picked her up and held her in his arms. "Macy won't stop running around the outside of the building with Jake!"

I laughed at the tattling little girl, and Austin glanced over at us. "This is my youngest daughter, Emma," he said, and the little girl waved and grinned at us.

"Dad!" another one whined, pulling on his pant leg. "Jake tried to trip me!"

Austin sighed, nodding to her. "And this is my other daughter, Macy. Jake's their cousin…"

"Newly divorced?" Greg guessed, and I watched his ringless hand.

"Yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Not quite as easy as I had predicted."

"Have fun!" I called as he walked off with his two daughters.

"Nice guy," Greg commented, squeezing my hand. "Doesn't seem like the guy who bullied a girl to death."

I went to answer him, but a voice from behind me said, "Lexi Smith?"

I turned around to see Monique Delaray's mother, Brenna. I hadn't seen her in years, and I slipped away from Greg to hug her. "It's nice to see you, Mrs. Delaray,"

"I only wish it were under better circumstances," she said, twiddling her thumbs. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," I promised, and she placed her hand on my face, running her thumb across my jaw line.

"You've grown up so much, Lexi," she said tearfully, and I rolled my eyes.

"Not in height though," I grumbled, and she laughed to herself.

"But a big heart!" she insisted, and I beamed. "Where have you been dear?"

"Vegas," I said, and she raised her eyebrows. "I'm a CSI there."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" she said happily, and I wasn't sure if she even knew what a CSI was, but that was unimportant. "Who's this cutie?"

She pointed to Greg, and I felt my cheeks heat up. "This is my boyfriend, Greg," I introduced her, and she wrapped him up in a hug. He gave me strange look before she pulled away.

"You've got a special one here, Greg," she told him, patting his arm. "Lexi here is the only one who stood up for Monique after she...died."

Greg gave me a look, and I turned back to Mrs. Delaray. "It's been good talking to you, but I really should go talk with Marigold, Greg and I are gonna have to catch a plane soon."

She gave me one last hug. "Call me, Lexi. Anytime."

"Of course," I said, smiling at her before walking off towards my cousin.

"Our flight doesn't leave for 2 hours," Greg pointed out, and I sighed.

"I need to give Morgan my pictures, remember?" I reminded him, and he nodded knowingly. Once I found Marigold, I sat down next to her. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," she grumbled, looking away from me.

"That's good," I said quietly, and closed my eyes. "I have a plane to catch, so I need to leave."

"Way to skip out on another one of your parents funerals!" she snapped, and I gaped at her.

"Just…bye, Marigold," I said shortly, tears welling in my eyes. I took Greg's hand and pulled him away from the entire funeral, ducking out the door and stepping into the now pouring rain.

It matched my tears that were flowing freely, and I tried to ignore them. Greg remained silent, following me out to the Denali, where I laid my head on the side of the car, tears pouring down my face in synchronization with the rain. I hadn't meant to skip out on my dad's funeral, but Marigold and Casey had been shouting explicit things at me and I felt so overwhelmed. Just like I felt now.

Greg placed a hand on my shoulder carefully before leaning against the car as well. "We're getting drenched," he informed me, and I nodded, now feeling cold.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "You just tag along with me where I go, and I can't…I can't just suck it up and not be a crybaby for once…"

"If I were in this situation, you would do everything I'm doing now." He said seriously, and I nodded in agreeance. "So it's no big deal. Thick and thin, remember?"

I choked out a sob, and he pulled me into his arms tightly. I just cried, upset with everything. With my dad, for starting this crap back when I was just an infant. With my mom, for screwing things up and then trying to fix them after she was dead. And especially with Marigold, who seemed to hold a permanent grudge against me. Greg kissed the top of my head carefully before I felt his chest shake with laughter. "What?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"We really should just get inside and turn the heater on," he told me, and I sniffled. "Or we're going to get pneumonia."

I smiled at him before crawling into the passenger's seat. Greg sat in the driver's, turning on the heater as much as he could. I sighed, the warmth feeling comforting. "Thanks, Greggo," I sighed, and he laughed.

"The heater wasn't really for you, my toes are going to fall off."

…

"Welcome back to Vegas," Nick greeted us as we walked through the crime lab doors. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he smirked. "Morgan and Russell told us _all _about this weekend."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair and looking at Greg. He was just watching Nick, his face once again completely unreadable. How was he so damn good at that? "Sorry to hear about your mom, Lexi," a passing Henry said, and I smiled and waved.

"Thanks Henry," I said, and Nick nodded.

"Yeah, sorry to hear about that too," Nick said, biting his lip. Nope, he just didn't do it like Greg. The sexy meter was not even close. "But uh, if it makes you feel any better-"

"Sanders! Smith!" a voice barked, and I felt all color drain from my face. Ecklie's voice continued to ring through my ears. "I heard about the two of you." He pointed to the two of us.

"Dad?" Morgan asked from where she was passing through the hallway. "What's going on?"

Ecklie ignored her and continued look at us expectantly. "From who?" I asked, finally finding my voice.

"Overheard Hodges gossiping to Sidle about it," he answered, rolling his eyes. "And he caved like a…well, like a cave."

His awkwardness made me have to stifle a laugh. "And?" Greg asked, and Ecklie crossed his arms.

"I'll be getting back to you both about it by the end of your shift," he said stiffly. "You knew this wasn't permitted."

I nodded, but Greg didn't do anything. "I get it," I said for him, and his head snapped over to me. I ignored it, and tried to avoid his eyes that were burning holes in my head. "We broke the rules."

"I'll be in contact tomorrow morning." He said shortly before walking away. Morgan and Nick just stared at us, and I shook my head.

"I swear, I didn't say a word," Morgan promised, looking at Nick worriedly. "Well, besides Russell and Nick. We had a case yesterday and-"

"I know you didn't tell," I interrupted, and she raised her eyebrows. "Hodges did."

…

**A/N: What did you think of this chapter? Oh snap Hodges, what did you do?:(**

**What did you think of the funeral and Austin Fox? And Mrs. Delaray? Plus a little Greg/Lexi romantico! Cuteness.(:**

**Haha well, making this AN short, so just remember to REVIEW! PLEASE OH PLEASE REVIEW! I only got one review last chapter? Come on guys. Thanks to smuffly, by the way!:)**


	12. Going to Prison

**A/N: I don't own CSI. And to my REVIEWERSS! Smuffly, you rock. You always review and I think I might be in love with you. Kidding. Kind of. **

**Guest reviewers! At least give yourselves little names please so I can distinguish who is who?:) Thanks! BUT ANYWAYS, Guest Reviewer #1: I actually have no idea why they can't date, but remember how there was an issue with Grissom and Sara dating? That's what I'm going off of here. Lol.**

**Guest Reviewer #2(my stalker): I don't think you're stalking me, and I'm very flattered that you check everyday! You're review was my inspiration to finish chapter 24 today!(even though this is chapter 12, I know. I do everything so I'm 2 times ahead of the game).**

**Enjoy!**

"Hodges!" I growled, entering the lab. His head was laid in his hands, and he was clearly avoiding me. "What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't mean to!" he pleaded, looking up at me. I thought his eyes may have been slightly tear stained, but I ignored it.

"But you still did it!" I snapped, poking a finger in his chest. "You told Ecklie!"

"I know, and I'm sorry!" he said, shaking his head. "That man…very intimidating."

I groaned, sitting down on a stool and wheeling over to a microscope. "Who's case are you working on?" I asked, turning back around to face him, but he had left the lab. Instead, DB was standing in the doorway.

"He's on Morgan and I's," Russell answered, and I blushed as he came into the lab, taking a stool and wheeling over to where I was looking. "What's he got?"

"Mascara," I mumbled, wheeling away so he could see.

"You really shouldn't blame Hodges," he remarked, looking away from the microscope. "He overheard Morgan and I, then he told Sara. It's just a mistake that Ecklie heard it all."

"I just…what if he switches me to day? I like this shift, DB." I said quietly, and DB sighed.

"I think you like this shift because of Greg," he said, leaning back against the wall behind him.

"No!" I insisted. "I like everyone on night shift! You, Nick, Morgan, Sara, Finn, and when he's not screwing up my love life, even Hodges!"

Russell nodded slowly, as if he was thinking. "Ecklie's decision is…just that. It's his choice," he said simply, but still seemed to be lost in thought. "I told him to keep you on night shift with us, if that makes you feel any better."

"Hardly," I grumbled, and Russell laughed. "But thanks."

"I don't think he's going to fire you," Russell said, and I smiled at him. "You're too smart."

"Thanks," I said, but pushed off with my feet and wheeled backwards in the stool.

"And Lexi?"

"Hmmm?"

"Really? Greg?"

I raised my eyebrows at him and shrugged. "He's the best."

"In your book," Russell sighed, getting up and walking out of the lab.

"Is it safe to come in?" Hodges asked from the door. I nodded, motioning for him to come in.

"Hodges, you want the beans now?" I sighed, crossing my arms, and looking at him.

"Yes," he admitted, and I rolled my eyes.

"Greg's my boyfriend," I said, and Hodges smirked.

"Lexi and Sanders, sitting in a tree-"

He was cut off by me hitting him in the arm, and he scowled at me. "Shut up, Hodges."

"So abusive," he grumbled, walking away to finish what he was doing.

I looked down at my watch, and realized I should probably join Morgan and Greg on that 419 now. I wordlessly walked out of the lab, running straight into Greg. "Sorry," he said shortly, and walked right past me.

"Hey," I said, catching his arm.

"What?" he asked, looking at me with a bored expression.

"Are you mad or something?" I asked, looking in his eyes. They seemed annoyed, or at least upset.

"No," he said sarcastically, and pulled his arm away from my grip. "Just…don't talk to me right now, Lexi."

I stood there, shocked at his reaction. People pushed by me as I took up the entire hallway space. I just watched as he walked away from me, and felt broken. We'd been doing so great, everything was finally coming together, with all of my mom's pointless drama over with now. But I couldn't shake his words off and-

"Lexi?" Morgan asked from behind me, and I turned around. She was looking at me, concern crossing her face. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, nodding after a moment. She looked at me skeptically.

"Come on," she said, taking my arm and leading me to the locker rooms. "Get your stuff, we're going to that 419."

"What about Greg?" I asked, though I felt distant and in a daze.

"Oh, he's meeting us there," she said, and I could feel her avoidance on the topic. I raised my eyebrows at her, and she gave me an innocent look. "What?"

"You know something I don't," I told her, and she shook her head.

"No, I don't. Promise." She swore, and zipped her vest up. "Let's go!"

I gave her a look, and she smiled brightly at me. "You know something about Ecklie's decision, don't you?"

She seemed to hesitate before saying, "Just forget about that for now, okay?"

I shook my head. "Morgan, you'd better tell me."

"Nah, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise!" she said, and took my arm again, leading me out of the crime lab.

….

"You know, if Russell find out about this, we're toast," I reminded Morgan as we pulled up to the 419 spot. She looked at the milkshake in my hand, and then at me.

She shrugged. "It's hot tonight, we can't be getting dehydrated."

I sighed. "What's the case, David?" I asked as we approached the dead body. I looked carefully at the girl. She seemed at be 12 or 13, and in very fit shape. Running shoes, tank top and track shorts. An athlete, I assumed.

"This," he said, shaking his head. "Is Mary Werlitz. One of the most prized athletes in the Las Vegas middle school system."

"I'm sorry, in the _middle _school system?" Morgan asked.

David nodded slowly. "She's on the news all the time, don't you guys watch TV?"

We exchanged a glance before shaking our heads. "And if we do," I said, leaning down to look at her. "It's not about some middle school athlete."

"It's a real shame," David added, pointing at her forehead. "Single bullet to the head, clean kill. My guess is that she was on a run."

I looked around at the mountains, figuring he was right. "TOD?" Morgan asked absentmindedly, already looking around the area.

"Liver temp puts it at about 3 hours ago," he noted, and stood up. "Good luck with this one, there's going to be a lot of upset people."

"Right," I said, waving to him as he walked back to his car. "How does he beat us here every time?"

Morgan looked up from where she was sipping her milkshake. "Not every time," she pointed out as she swallowed. "Remember when we went on that case with the physco cleaning lady who killed her boss? He was late then."

I nodded, looking around. "I don't really know where to start."

"God, this milkshake is _so _good," she whispered, and I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, sorry. Chocolate's kind of my thing."

"I can tell," I mused, and she looked around.

"Well, either the killer was facing her when she was running," she said, walking ten feet in front of the body. I just imagined the young girl running, not really thinking and just enjoying her time in the wilderness. "Or she had stopped running for something."

"Good point," I said, walking to stand next to her. "Who made the 911 call?"

"And elderly couple on their own walk," she said, and narrowed her eyes. "I wonder if he hid behind a tree?"

"Assuming the killer is a man," I said, and she rolled her eyes, stepping behind the closest tree. "Can you get fingerprints?"

She didn't respond, just looked at the tree. "Did you know pine trees give off the most sap?"

"No," I said unsurely. "I was very anti-tree hugger in high school, so ignored that stuff in science."

She looked closer at the tree. "It's a 6th grade science standard," she said, glancing at me. "Not really complex."

I blushed out embarrassment for my defeat. "What's your point?" I asked bluntly, and she smirked.

"The gun he used to shoot the kid?" She grinned at me. "Will have sap on it. And fingerprints."

"So will the tree," I said, pulling out my dust and strips. "If we catch the guy, we'll compare the gun prints and tree prints?"

"Correct!" she said happily, and set off into the area we were standing in.

"Hey, be careful!" I laughed as she nearly tripped over a limb.

In the middle of printing the tree, I was feeling pretty successful since I was already getting prints somehow. And then Greg pulled up.

He appeared totally exhausted, and I looked away from him. He had already told me he didn't want to talk. "Sorry I'm late," he said to me, and I was silent. I didn't want to piss him off, say the wrong thing maybe. "Hello?"

"Morgan's over there," I said, pointing to where her flashlight was scanning the ground and trees.

"Who's the vic?" he asked, and I pointed over to the girl.

"Mary Werlitz," I told him, and was about to tell him that we didn't watch enough TV to know about her, when Morgan started yelling.

"I've got a murder weapon!" she sang, carefully picking it up and putting it in a plastic evidence bag. "This sucker is terrible at hiding his murder!"

I rushed over to Morgan, nearly tripping over a log but being caught by Greg. "Thanks," I mumbled, only to receive no response from him. I rolled my eyes and continued onto the proud Morgan, holding a bag in my face.

"I wish I placed a bet on this," she told me, nodding her head like she knew she'd find it there. "I mean, come on. It's a pretty clean shot to the head, but still not a very smart brain inside the killers own."

I laughed, Morgan tossing me the bag. "You find it weird that we just found the murder weapon so easily?" I asked her as she gripped onto my shoulder to pull herself out of the high grass.

"It _is_ suspicious," she said, and Greg scoffed.

"Any murder is," he pointed out, and she hit him in the shoulder. "Hey!"

"Yeah, hey!" I scolded, letting go of her arm. "That's _my _job!"

She rolled her eyes. "And besides," she said, walking past the body, where they were finally covering it up with a sheet and rolling it away. "If he made it this easy? He wanted this to be found."

….

I sat in the break room, sipping my milkshake still when Morgan burst through the door. "You are just a bundle of enthusiasm tonight, aren't you?"

She nodded quickly before showing the paper to me. "The Gods of CODIS are with me today," she said happily, plopping down next to me on the couch.

"Are they?" I asked, my mind still wandering to Greg.

"Yes!" she said, sliding the paper onto my knees. I picked it up, reading it slowly.

"Bryce Donahue?" I asked, squinting at the small print. "Has a prior for breaking and entering. Huh."

"Not just 'huh'," She looked around before tuning to me excitedly. "He's at the same campground as Mary Werlitz was killed!"

"Oh, about her," I said, remembering why I'd been aimlessly sitting on my laptop in the first place. "Did some research about Mary Werlitz. Her dad's a former Olympic swimmer, mom was a college volleyball player. Apparently Mary was being asked to come to 8 different high schools in the area. She was in the middle of her 8th grade year, trying to stay in shape during Thanksgiving vacation."

"Which makes sense," Greg said, now entering the room. "I called her teachers and her basketball coach. She was a complete health freak, hardly ever ate anything besides vegetables or fruit, only drank fat free milk and Gatorade."

"Damn," I sighed, blinking in surprise. "That's a huge athletic commitment for a 13 year old."

"I stuck to bowling," Greg said, sitting down at the table and looking at us. "You know she was dating some freshman in high school?"

"I bet mom and dad loved that one," Morgan sighed, looking back at her CODIS report. "What was his name?"

"Trenton Donahue," Greg answered, and Morgan and glanced at each other. "What?"

"CODIS came back to Bryce Donahue," I said, handing him the paper. "18 year old with a prior."

"His brother?" he asked in surprise.

I nodded. "You think maybe she was screwing around with the brother?"

"At 13? I doubt it," Morgan said, shaking her head and standing up. "But I know someone who will know."

"Bryce Donahue?" Greg guessed as he handed the paper back to her.

"You catch on fast, Greg." She said, smiling. "Now you two go do…something, and I need to go with Brass so we can bring in Donahue."

"Have fun!" I called as she walked down the hallway. I looked over at Greg, who was ignoring my stare. "You're pissed about something."

"Not at you, Lex," he sighed, sitting down next to me and holding my hand. "At Ecklie. And Hodges. And every other person who ran their mouth."

"Really?" I asked, looking at him. "Because you sure as hell seem pissed at me."

"I'm just…surprised you admitted to all of that. I thought we'd just play dumb or something," he said irritably, and I shook my head.

"Are you afraid to admit you're my boyfriend, Greg?" I asked, wishing immediately that I could take the words back. He just gaped at me.

"That is absolutely not it," he said though clenched teeth. "We have been through so much together…how could you even think that?"

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling thoroughly ashamed of my words. "I guess I just…you just seemed disappointed that everyone knew."

"Well, yeah, we could be split up on shift! Of course I'm disappointed!" he exclaimed, and I nodded.

"Sorry," I said softly, and he pecked my cheek.

"It's okay, Lex. Really," he promised and I leaned back, taking a deep breath.

"Tonight has been…crazy." I said quietly as I raked a hand through my hair. "And I also have some business to take care of right now."

I stood up, feeling bad about not telling Greg. "What business?" he asked curiously, scrunching his eyebrows at me.

"Just gotta go somewhere," I said shortly, and he followed me out of the break room.

"Where is 'somewhere'?" he questioned. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, Mr. Clingy," I said, looking around. "I'm going to prison."

…

"Here you go ma'am, Tanner Durfee will be here momentarily," the officer told me as he motioned for me to sit down. I looked through the glass, the fact that I'd be seeing Tanner's face in a moment terrifying to me.

I watched as the officer brought him around and set him in the chair, Tanner smirking at me as he picked up the phone. I did as well, trying to ignore the smug look on his face. "How've you been, Lexi?"

"A lot better now that you're behind bars," I snapped, and he just chuckled. "What's so funny? You could be facing death row!"

He laughed even harder, and I felt my stomach twist in a knot. "Oh, Lexi," he sighed, shaking his head and smiling. "You just…you always seem to think that I'm going to be out of your life."

"You are as of now," I grumbled, and he laughed again.

"No, dearest Lexi. I called you here to discuss Mrs. Walker, and her son Aiden?" he said cheerfully.

"Mrs. Walker's case, huh? If I'm correct, you admitted to the whole thing and Aiden admitted to killing that teenage girl." I recalled, and he nodded.

"Yes. But don't you want to know _why _I killed her? Or _why _Aiden killed that girl? Don't you wish to satisfy your curiosity?" he asked playfully, and I felt sick.

"What curiosity? I don't want to know anything about your sick and twisted mind." I said simply, and he shook his head.

"What if I told you I killed Monica Walker because she was pregnant?" he whispered, and I stared him in the eyes, trying desperately to look emotionless, picturing Greg.

"Then I'd say that you're sick and twisted," I sneered, and he closed his eyes.

"She was pregnant with my child, Lexi," he asked quietly, and I blinked.

"I'm pretty sure that if she was pregnant, Doc Robbins would have told me," I said coldly, and Tanner shook his head.

"Why would they tell you? You were already an unstable mess living with a little _baby _for a boyfriend," he spat, and I glared at him.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I shouted, and he shook his head.

"Sanders is a little kid, Lexi," he told me, shrugging. "He's nothing compared to what I was."

"Yeah, he's not a murderer," I growled, and Tanner just stared at me.

"Aiden killed Alyssa because she was breaking into his mother's home," he began. "Alyssa was the product of the affair that split his parents apart. And she was trying to break into the apartment because she heard Monica's sweet little cries of help. But why was she coming to the apartment? To see her half-brother, who is only 2 weeks older than her. How did Aiden have a gun, you ask? He took it from his fathers house. And they never lived happily ever after."

I gaped at him as I tried to think back to the one time I'd seen Mrs. Walker. "You were in Vegas before I was." I stated, and he nodded.

"I knew you'd come here," he stated, and I shook my head. "I knew that you'd go to the top crime lab in the country. I ran into Monica and she was just…a lot like you, Lexi."

"Then why keep up your sick obsession with getting me back?" I pleaded, begging for an answer now. "You had her, Tanner. You didn't need me. You had _her_."

"But I always needed you," he said to himself. "I always needed pretty little Lexi Smith. We dated for _2 years_, Lexi. Does that mean nothing to you?"

"As soon as I caught you cheating on me it meant nothing," I snapped, and my breath caught. "Monica Walker is who you were cheating on me with."

"It was a mistake," he said, almost sounding sincere.

"No," I said. "You were in Vegas long before I was. All those business trips…you had been visiting her. And then she came to you."

"And that's when I was caught red-handed," he admitted, and I closed my eyes. I couldn't believe 2 years of my life had been wasted, down the drain completely. "Monica was just a fling, Lexi."

"And now she's dead," I muttered absentmindedly, replaying the moment I'd caught him in my head. The anger filled me once again, and I jumped out of the seat, slamming the phone back to where it was. "Screw you."

I knew he couldn't hear what I had said, but the words felt so good. I stormed towards the officer to tell him that I was finished, but was stopped by whistling. "Hey, yo! Remember me?"

Cole McLaughlin's voice filled my ears, I stopped in my tracks. Standing with a couple of other thugs, he was looking at me. "Yes?" I asked impatiently.

"Missy, I just wanted to let you know that they sentenced me to 6 years," he said, and smirked. "So I'll be out in no time."

"Cool story," I said in a monotone voice, and began to walk off.

"That means I'll be after you and your pancake lover son!" he called, and I stopped once again. Turning around, I marched over to him, keeping my distance in the process.

"Let me tell _you _something, numb nuts," I shouted, the anger boiling inside me again. "I don't have a son. But I have a boyfriend. And guess what? He's a CSI too. So 2 people in a house, both with semi-automatics? You think that's such a wonderful idea?" He was silent. "If you step 3 feet on my property, I will shoot your ass and have it shipped back here to the prison."

He just stared at me. "You got a lot of nerve for such a tiny person," he snickered.

"I'm the one who put you hear, don't forget it," I snarled, and he sobered up, his laughter dying down. "That's what I thought, asshole."

I stormed out of the prison, even angrier than I was before. I tried to calm down when my phone began ringing wildly once again, part of me wondering what the hell those prisoners were doing at 2 in the morning. Weren't they supposed to be asleep?

"Smith," I answered, opening my car door.

"Hey! I just wanted to let you know we caught sappy-hands," Morgan said happily, and I smirked as I climbed into the driver's seat, all anger kind of just washing away now.

"That's great!" I said cheerfully, and she proceeded to tell me all about it.

"And then I said 'shut it, sticky fingers'. It was classic!" she said into the phone, and I laughed.

"How'd Greg do?" I asked, turning on my car for the sake of my heater.

"Oh, Greg? He skipped out a while ago, and he told me you were off to prison," she explained.

"Greg left?" I frowned.

"Well, yeah. He said he had to go make a phone call to someone, and then he never came back," she said.

I felt my stomach drop slightly. "Morgan, I am _so _sorry you basically solved this entire case on your own. But where's Greg now? Have you called him?"

"He's eating a really early breakfast with someone," she said, and I checked my watch. 6 am.

"Okay, well I'll be at the lab in a few minutes," I said quickly, hanging up and speeding off for the crime lab.

_I opened the door, the creaking really annoying. Tanner was supposed to fix that after I left for my forensic conference with Grayson and Ryan. _

_There was a silence in the house that felt unnatural. I placed my hand on my gun, walking quietly into our bedroom so I didn't wake Tanner. And then I saw her. _

_Some skank was lying in our bed, fast asleep with Tanner next to her. My head filled with rage, and I grabbed my suitcase that I'd been pulling along, and chucked it at Tanner. He woke up, holding his stomach in pain. "You are unbelievable!" I shrieked, and he looked at me like a fish out of water. "You stupid son of a-"_

I pulled into the crime lab parking lot, pushing the memory out my head quickly as I rushed to the doors. I was greeted by the usual crime lab, no different just because Greg wasn't there at the moment. Hurrying into the break room, I saw an impatient Ecklie standing by the coffee pot and talking with Russell.

"I'm here!" I panted, making sure I wasn't late for whatever Ecklie was going to tell me. Morgan came up behind me, patting my shoulder.

"Not so good of a runner now," she said, sounding amused. I glared at her briefly before turning to Ecklie.

"I know Greg isn't here, but if you could just tell me whatever you're going to say, I can pass the message along," I assured him, and he chuckled slightly.

"It wasn't a huge deal, Smith," he said, and I felt like for a brief moment, his solitude has broken. "You two can stay on the night shift. After you each spend 3 days on suspension."

I grinned. "Aww, you know you're happy for us, deep down inside," I said teasingly, and he rolled his eyes. Morgan smiled into her coffee.

"I have to be going, DB," he said shortly before waving awkwardly to us. He stopped short in the hallway though, and back up. "Smith?"

"Hmm?" I asked, smirking at him.

"Just…please keep the PDA to a minimum." He said, and I gave him a silent thumbs up.

"How was your visit to prison?" Russell asked, a smile playing on his face.

"Oh, terrible," I said, shrugging. "Thanks a bunch for next telling me Monica Walker was knocked up by my stalker ex-boyfriend."

"Sorry," Morgan said, blushing. "I didn't want to upset you."

I sighed. "It's really not a problem. But if you'll excuse me, I need to find Hodges."

And with that, I started off down the hallway and into the lab. "Good to see you, Nick," Hodges said from where his eyes were glued to a microscope.

"I'm not Nick," I said, and he jumped slightly. "In fact, you should really stop that whole guessing who it is without looking thing, Hodges."

He turned around to face me. "Well I guess I'm sorry then," he said quietly, and I just smiled.

"I should apologize, Hodges," I sighed, and leaned against the counter. "Ecklie's pretty scary, must be why you caved."

"Did you get switched to a different shift?" he asked, desperation playing in his eyes.

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'. He grinned.

"Suspension?" he guessed, and I shrugged.

"Three days off doesn't sound too bad," I remarked, and he rolled his eyes. "Plus I get to spend them with Greg."

He shook his head. "I'm going to try and forget you said that," he mumbled, and I laughed.

"I'm joking, Hodges," I said, and he looked at me unsurely. "Besides, who's Greg at breakfast with?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" he asked me, examining something in the light. "Catherine's back in town, he asked her to breakfast."

"Catherine?" I asked in shock.

"Yeah, she quit this year," he told me. "She's back for some FBI conference though."

Greg was eating breakfast.

With another woman.

**Yes! I'm gonna do it! Bringing Catherine back for a chapter sounds good, right?! I always loved her character3 But Lexi has no clue she's like waayyy older than Greg. Lol. Next chapter should be interesting…**

**Okay, what did we think?! Who hated Hodges at the beginning? *raises hand slowly* And who loved him at the end? *raises hand again*. Oh Hodges, you loud mouth kiss ass, you! **

**Lotzalove, there is your reason why Tanner killed Mrs. Walker! Gah, such a twisted intertwining web of weirdness between Tanner and Lexi.:P And there is also your reason why Aiden killed the teenager(who was his half sister?! Whaaaatt?)**

**AND WHO LOVES MORGAN EVEN MORE?! **

**You have to understand that I love Morgan sooo much on the show!:) And I love how she is Ecklie's daughter. **

**Speaking of the devil, who wanted to choke Ecklie at the end of last chapter? And who wanted to hug him at the end of this chapter? Haha, totally joking. No one wants to hug Ecklie. Unless your Hodges mom(hint hint). **

**Anywho, make sure you drop me a review by clicking that glorious button down there! I love it!3 So basically…REVIEW, MY BABIES! REVIEW! **

**That sounded totally weird and movie cliché.**

**I apologize from the bottom of my heart.**

**Thanks, bro!(yeah I just used modern rap language, got an issue with it? I've already hashtagged, why not call people bro's and does?! Answer: Because it sounds thug. And I am not thug.)**

**So, um, thanks…friends.**


	13. Gone

**A/N: Don't own CSI! And thanks for the lovely reviews!:)**

I tried to control my temper as I walked into the diner Hodges said Greg and "Catherine" had went to. I didn't really know if this was some ex-girlfriend or what, but I wasn't going to let Tanner's incident happen all over again. Nope.

I looked around the diner and sighed in relief when I found Greg, but also felt my cheeks heat up when I saw who he was with. A woman a lot older than the both of us, probably late 40s to earlier 50s. I was so stupid to think he was cheating on me, he loved me too much to do that. And besides, Greg and this lady didn't look like they were-

"Lexi?" Greg asked, I blushed even more. I waved awkwardly, wanting to run out the door and hide. "Come here, I want you to meet someone."

I walked over to the booth, looking at the ground the entire time. "Hey," I said, and Greg moved over so I could slide in next to him.

"Lexi, this is Catherine. She used to be a CSI at the lab, but left earlier this year," he introduced, and I shook her hand across the table. "And Catherine, this is Lexi, my girlfriend."

"Nice to meet you," Catherine said with a smile. "Greg was just saying how he had met this girl, and then as if on cue, you walked in!"

I smirked, and Greg looked down at me. "Yeah, what are you even doing here? No offense, I just wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Hodges told me you were going to breakfast with um, a Catherine," I mumbled. "I just…had a bad time at the prison, brought back some old memories and I…thoughtyouwerecheatingonme."

I said the words as fast as I could, and I Greg just stared at me. "Why would you ever think that?" he asked quietly, and I looked away from him.

"Hey Greg?" Catherine asked, and he looked back up at her.

"Yeah?"

"Get out of here. I'll cover the bill."

"No, I'll get it," he insisted, and I heard her laugh.

"You're most likely going to get your ass chewed by Ecklie for skipping," she reminded him. "Get out of here."

He nodded, and I stood up, letting him scoot out of the booth. He brushed a hand down my arm, and my cheeks grew even redder. I sat back down, guilt consuming me as I laid my head down on the table. "Life sucks," I sighed, talking to this complete stranger.

"Pretty much," Catherine agreed, and I lifted my head up. "And it looks like you just made it a lot harder."

"It wasn't on purpose," I said quietly. "I went back to the prison today, talked to my ex-boyfriend. I just remembered how he cheated on me and when I heard Greg was here with you…" I paused. "Sorry. I didn't know you guys were friends."

"I get it," she promised, and set her hand on top of mine. "I've been to hell and back too."

I chuckled grimly. "How do you know I've been to hell and back?"

"Greg told me he was in Los Angeles last week, said he was helping you with family drama. And if there's family drama, there's hell." I nodded in agreeance. "And you're back."

I laughed at her way of figuring things out, and smiled. "I really, _really _like Greg."

"Greg's a great guy," she said, a melancholy expression playing on her face momentarily. "He's really just one of those guys that should have been with the right girl a long time ago."

"I'm glad he wasn't," I breathed, and she smiled to herself.

"I think I am too," she said quietly before looking up at me. "I always told Greg I had an eye for the bad ones."

"Did I pass?" I asked, but actually felt somewhat nervous.

"Yeah," she snorted, and I shook her head. "However Greg managed to get you is beyond me. He's one lucky kid."

I smiled up at her. "You gonna be in town for very long?"

"I leave today, sorry. I flew in yesterday, my flight leaves in 3 hours." She said, and I sighed.

"That really sucks," I said, and she chuckled. "I feel bad that I cut your breakfast short."

"Not a big deal," she promised me, and I raised my eyebrows. "Trust me, Lexi. I'll be back in Vegas soon."

She stood from the booth, dropping 20 bucks down. I followed suit as we walked out of the diner. "Hey, Catherine?"

"Yeah?" she asked, and I shuffled my feet as we stepped out of the diner.

"Do, uh, do you see Greg as the marrying type?" I asked quietly. I had already figured out I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Greg, but we had just started dating and I didn't want to move too fast.

She smirked. "Lexi, give it a year, maybe less. And then he'll pop the question," she assured me, and I smiled broadly.

"I love that kid," I said, and she gave me a hug.

"So do I," she agreed, and waved. "You call me if there's anything you need to know about dear old Greg. Or anything. Bye, Lexi."

I waved as she walked out towards a car, and sighed. I really needed to see Greg. And talk to him.

…

I looked around anxiously, hoping to see Greg somewhere in the house. His car was parked out front, I knew he was around. I walked down the hallway, only to hear an unnatural silence. I felt the same terrible feeling that I did when Tanner was cheating on me, and shook away the fear as I approached the shut bedroom door. I placed my hand on the doorknob, and flung it open quickly, my eyes widening at the scene.

There was a small amount of blood on the bed, and I scanned the room wildly, now pulling out my gun and preparing for some nutjob to jump out of nowhere and try to kill me. I approached the night stand on Greg's side, where an envelope sat, placed neatly. _Miss Lexi Smith_ it read, and I stopped myself from ripping it open. Greg was gone, and the room looked like he'd put up a fight.

The bedroom window was opened wide, and I clamped a hand over my mouth, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I grabbed a blanket hurriedly, sitting down on the ground and trying to prevent myself from going into shock as I dialed Russell's number.

"Russell." He answered, and I cleared my throat.

"Russell, it's Lexi. Greg's gone. He put up a fight- I can tell. Someone took him!" I cried, shaking my head and wrapping the blanket around me closer.

"Lexi, calm down," Russell said, and I could hear shouting in the background. "I'm at a crime scene right now, okay? I'm sending Nick and Morgan over, do not touch a thing, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," I said, nodding to myself.

"Okay. You have your gun?" he asked me, and I set it down on the ground.

"Yes, yes. I have my gun." I answered, and I heard a sigh of relief.

"Nick and Morgan are _on their way_. Do not touch a thing." He instructed once again, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I got it," I said quietly. "I got it all."

"Are you okay, Lexi?" Russell double-checked. "You don't sound well, too distant. I need you to keep thinking about that case Morgan and you solved. Think hard. Keep your mind away from Greg."

There was knocking on my front door, and I hung up on Russell. Wrapping the blanket around me even tighter, I rushed to the front door, gun still gripped in my hand. Once I saw it was Morgan and Nick, I opened the door quickly and sighed with relief. "Lexi!" Morgan breathed, hugging me tightly.

"It's in our room," I said emotionlessly, and led her up the stairs. I opened the door, and Nick, who'd been silent, cursed under his breath.

"Dammit, Greg!" he growled, and looked around the room. He spotted the letter. I watched as his eyes read who it was, and then looked back at me. Morgan handed me a pair of gloves, which I slapped on quickly.

I snatched the latter from Nick, carefully sitting down on the bed and taking a deep breath before ripping the letter open.

_Missy-_

_Told you I'd be back to get your boy.. You want him, 3 million dollars, Wednesday night at 11. Abandoned Shoe warehouse. Come alone and unarmed, or Sanders dies._

_-Cole._

"This is all my fault," I grumbled, and tossed them the letter. "3 million dollars in two days…how the hell am I going to come up with that?"

"That's…that's the dude from Emily Brown's case," Morgan muttered, and I nodded. "I thought he was in prison?"

"Yeah I did too. In fact, I saw him today in prison-" I started, but Nick interrupted me.

"I'm calling Brass, asking if there's been any prison breakouts as of recent. You two just…stay there." He barked, then hurried out the room, dialing his cell phone.

"You sure you're okay?" Morgan asked me, sitting down on the bed next to me.

"I went to breakfast with Catherine this morning," I muttered, staring at the wall in front of me.

"You did?" she asked, surprise evident in her tone.

I nodded. "Yeah, I did. Not on purpose. I went to find Greg, and she…she kicked him out, and he went home. If I hadn't shown up he'd have gone back to work and none of this would be happening right now."

"McLaughlin escaped off the prison bus this morning," Nick sighed, coming in the room and shutting his cell phone. "Dammit!"

I laid back down on our bed, closing my eyes and thinking of how just last night, he had been right next to me. "I'm going to that warehouse," I announced. "I don't even know where the hell I'm going to get 3 million dollars, but I'm going."

Morgan placed a hand on my shoulder. "Look, Lexi, I really don't think that he wants 3 million dollars. I think he wants _you_."

"And if that's what it's going to take to get Greg back, then fine." I said firmly, and Nick just kind of stared at me. "What?"

"I don't…I don't know if there's another way," Nick said quietly, and Morgan snapped her head up from where she was staring at the ground.

"There _has _to be another way!" she said, looking between Nick and I. "I mean, we know he's going to be at the warehouse with Greg at 11, so why can't the SWAT team meet him there or something?"

Nick shook his head. "This really isn't our decision. It's more of Lexi's. And for now, you need to pack your bags, because there is no way in hell you're staying here when that creep knows where you live."

I scoffed. "I can take care of myself just fine."

He rolled his eyes. "Would you stop that? Just let us help you, Lexi! Greg would want you safe." He said seriously to me, and I stood up off the bed.

"Fine." I snapped, and began rummaging through the drawers Greg and I had upgraded to. I threw my shirts in one sloppy pile, not really caring, and my jeans in a separate one. Morgan came behind me and started folding them nervously, taking glances at where I was rummaging through the bathroom and looking for my makeup and hair stuff. I didn't think I would have the energy to do either, but if I got bored I would probably curl my hair into ultimate craziness like I did when I was young and in high school. When I had grabbed all of my stuff, I grabbed Greg some spare clothes, assuming that when we found him he'd want to change.

"Well aren't you just the most considerate girlfriend ever," Morgan said with raised eyebrows as I stuffed his things into the bag. "I cannot wait to catch this punk."

"You sound a bit too excited," I sighed, and she shook her head.

"No, Greg's gonna be totally fine, Lexi." She promised, and I shrugged.

"Guess we'll see, huh?" I frowned, and she picked up my bag for me. I went and ran to the pantry, grabbing these chips that Greg was obsessed with. I ran back up the stairs, all the way to under his bed, where he kept his iPod, filled with Marilyn Manson and other creepy musicians. Needless to say, his hardcore rock wasn't exactly my thing.

Morgan narrowed her eyes at me as I sprinted down the staircase, throwing those in the bag as well. "He's gonna appreciate that when we get him out of there, huh?"

"Definitely." I said firmly, and she just shrugged.

We were going to get Greg back.

…...

"Lexi," a voice sighed as I entered the crime lab. Before I could figure out who said it, Hodges hit me with a hug. I patted his back awkwardly, and when he pulled away, his face was contorted with both relief and distress. "You're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, Archie just told me that Sanders was taken from his house and I didn't know if they took you or…" he trailed off, then glared at Nick, who was stifling a laugh. "We don't need 2 missing CSI's."

"I agree," I said, but marched off down the hallway. I stuck my head in Russell's office, irritated when I saw he wasn't there.

"Lexi?" a voice asked from behind me, and I turned around to see Brass standing there, looking at me with a pleased expression. "The bank has agreed to give out a 3 million dollar loan."

"That's great!" I said happily, and Brass nodded. "But I really don't know if I can pay them back, Brass…"

"Don't worry," he said. "We're gonna catch McLaughlin, get all that money back. Promise."

I beamed, feeling full of excitement. "Only 2 days left then," I breathed, and he placed a hand on my shoulder. Why was everyone doing that? I already had enough weight on my shoulders, an extra hand really didn't help.

"We're gonna get him back, Lexi. And if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me," he said, and I nodded.

"I'm doing well. But thank you." I added, and he gave me a wave before walking off to somewhere.

"…and this just has to feel like 5 years ago all over again," Henry whispered to Bobby Dawkins as they walked down the hallway.

"Yeah, poor Greg…" he sighed.

"Freeze," I snapped, and the both stopped walking and backed up. "What happened 5 years ago?"

Bobby looked away nervously, and Henry just stared at the ground. "He got beat up, really bad. Poor kid, on his way to his first primary investigation."

"Then he hit a kid with his car in self-defense," Bobby threw in, nodding to Henry. "Went to court and everything."

"It was found excusable," Henry assured me, nodding. "But the whole thing…was just terrible."

"And now he's reliving it," I muttered, and Henry looked away from me, Bobby already walking away and leaving. "Thanks for telling me, I guess."

"Hey, I know that they're gonna make sure they catch the guy," Henry said, smiling.

"Seems like that's all anyone can say," I pointed out, and he seemed to contemplate this.

"Yeah. But really, Lexi. You're gonna bring him the money, get Greg back, no problems." He said, and I grinned.

"Thanks, Henry," I said, and he smiled to himself before walking off down the hallway.

"Smith!" a voice shouted from down the hallway.

"Ugh, what now?" I whined, and turned around to see an irritated Ecklie walking towards me.

"You're supposed to be on suspension, remember?" he reminded me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Has no one filled you in on what's going on?" I seethed, and he shrugged.

"No. What's going on then?" he asked, looking at me like it was unimportant.

"Someone kidnapped Greg," I snapped, and for the first time that morning, tears pricked at my eyes. I blinked them away, looking up at a surprised Ecklie.

"Who?" he asked, and I threw the copy of the letter I had at him. He caught it and read it quickly before looking at me. 'You're 'missy'?"

"That's what the douche from prison called me," I informed him before taking the letter back. "I'm going to that warehouse Wednesday night."

He rubbed his temples irritably. "This is the optima of what we _didn't _need right now," he sighed, and I crossed my arms.

"No, really?" I said sarcastically, and he turned on is heel and walked away. Apparently he didn't want to think about this right now.

I pulled out my phone, now remembering who I should really be talking to. "Hello?" a groggy voice answered the phone.

"Mrs. Sanders?" I asked, biting my lip. Somehow, talking to her made me feel like I was closer to Greg.

"Lexi?" she asked unsurely. "Is everything okay?"

"Um, not exactly," I said quietly, and she sighed.

"Did Gregory get you pregnant? Nana Olaf will be happy to hear that, but I don't think-"

"No!" I interrupted her, feeling my cheeks turn red. "I'm not…I'm not pregnant, Mrs. Sanders."

"Then what is it?" she asked worriedly into the phone.

"Greg's been kidnapped," I said, and I heard her gasp on the other end of the phone. "But it's all been arranged so we'll get him back in 2 days, I promise."

"My Gregory!" she sobbed into the phone, and I closed my eyes in irritation. I was not in the mood to deal with a distraught mother.

"No, he'll be _fine_," I told her, and her sobbing continued.

"While we're talking, he's probably wishing he were dead!" she shrieked into the phone, and I pulled it slightly away from my ear.

"No, Mrs. Sanders. He's completely fine right now, don't tell yourself that," I whispered into the phone, worried someone could hear her screaming all the way from the lab.

"Where did they take him from?" she cried into the phone, and I leaned my forehead on the wall, wanting to just throw my head into it and not have to listen to this.

"Our bedroom," I said through gritted teeth, and she sobbed harder.

"Why do they want with him?" she yelled.

"It's…to get back at me, Mrs. Sanders. I was on the case that his kidnapper was on, it's all my fault." I said apologetically, and she was silent.

"You…you're the reason my baby's in danger?" she hissed, and I inwardly groaned.

"In all technicalities, yes," I said, and she was still silent. There was a click, and I looked at the screen of my phone. She had _not _just hung up on me.

"So, Greg's mom didn't take it too well?" Morgan asked me, and I shook my head.

"Went exactly as I figured it would," I sighed, and she took my arm.

"We're going to my house," she told me, and I groaned.

"I just want this day to _go away_." I informed her, and she chuckled slightly.

"No better way to take your mind off of all this than to come and chill at mi casa!" she said happily, and I raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh don't give me that. I took a Spanish class in high school."

"I didn't," I admitted, and she just laughed. "I talked the administration department into Art and Science instead."

"Well aren't you lucky," she said, and pulled me out of the crime lab doors. "Doesn't a chocolate milkshake sound good?"  
….

At 10 in the morning, I sat on a couch in Morgan's house, listening to Greg's iPod and sitting in one of his T-Shirts. Morgan had gone up to her room to catch some sleep before she went back to the crime lab. I was doing the usual thing I did on my days off, reading a book and listening to music. Except this time I was listening to Marilyn Manson who, quite frankly, scared me. Usually I would listen to pop music that was just playing on the radio, but today, Greg's twisted music was cheering me up.

It was reminding me of him. The music, the T-Shirt, all of it. Even the book I was reading. Saving Zoe made me think back to when he was in the hospital. _"This must have come straight off the teen section at Barnes and Noble." _He had said, then did the whole fist-bump thing with Nick. I missed him so much, like a chunk of my heart had been ripped away momentarily.

A very small 2 months that I'd been in Vegas, and I'd already done so much. Got shot, kissed Greg. My neighbor had been stabbed to death while carrying my stalker ex-boyfriends baby, and her son had killed his half-sister. Then I'd made Greg breakfast, and we fell asleep on my couch. Plus we were in an explosion, Tanner made bail. And then he'd shown up at my house, scared the crap out of me, and I went to live with Greg for the time being. Although, we never did go apartment searching. I went to dinner with the nutjob Moser family. My San Diego people came back, Greg got shanked. Then we went on a date, and he asked me to go to Thanksgiving with him. I did, and found out my mother had cancer and she died all in one weekend. Then I got all the stuff from my house, met Greg's amazing Nana Olaf. Got punched in the face, watched Greg try to kill a dude, and came back to Vegas. Ecklie found out, I yelled at Hodges. Which put me back to sitting on that couch.

And missing Greg.

I felt like someone had shoved me out of his life, demanding that I couldn't come back in. The thought made me want to scream and kick something, to shoot Cole McLaughlin the first chance I got.

There was no solution to my feelings, only to have Greg back. I just wanted to be back in his arms, for him to tell me everything was going to be okay. Throughout all of my drama, that was his thing to say. And now that the only people who could tell me that were everyone _but _him, I was nervous as hell. I wanted nothing more than to tell everyone that no one knew for certain whether Greg would be back or not, and to shut up about comforting me.

And as the Marilyn Manson music continued to blare in my ears, I sunk down in the couch and fell into the fetal position.

I just wanted Greg back, that was all.

**A/N:**

**Aww!^^That was a super sad part to write, and for the above paragraph about all the crap that's went down in Vegas, you don't even know how hard that was. I tried to get all the events in, and make sure they were all in the right order. Sorry if they're not.:P**

**Anywho, what did we think about this chapter? I'm sorry if it was a little fillerish, but I kind of needed it to be. I didn't want to have Greg kidnapped in found in one whole chapter(cuz that's just stupid) but next chapter maybe? Mwahaha!**

**Okay, and Catherine! I know she was only back for about 1,000 words, but what did you think of her? I thought her advice was good enough, I hope I captured her character well.:) Sorry if I didn't:P**

**Feeling majorly depressed as I wrote this chapter. A chapter without Greg is like bowling without a ball(who caught that? Remember how Greg was on the high school bowling team? Golly I come up with good puns sometimes!)**

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!**

**Thanks Buddies!:D**


	14. Found

**A/N: Don't own CSI.**

I got dressed, looking at the clock carefully. It was ten o clock at night, and I was sneaking out behind everyone's back. I felt terrible, but I had to. I couldn't risk them screwing up and getting Greg killed. Plus, I owed it to Mrs. Sanders to get her son back for her. She'd been in her hotel room for the past two days, mostly crying.

I snuck out to my car, making sure no one saw me. I stealthily climbed in, figuring it would take me about half an hour to drive out to the old warehouse.

But no. It took more like 20 minutes.

I could see McLaughlin's car was parked behind the warehouse, and I sighed, pressing my hands against my forehead. The briefcase full of money in the passenger's seat was taunting me, telling me to go in early. But I knew to wait. The only gun was in my glove compartment, and I planned on leaving it there. I heard a strangled yelp from inside the warehouse, and my temper flared up. I snatched up the suitcase and jumped out of my car.

Screw punctuality, I was going to be early.

I banged on the warehouse door. "Open up! It's me! I got your money, dickwad!"

The noise from inside stopped, and I heard footsteps. It was pitch black in the warehouse though, I couldn't tell who was coming to the door. And then it opened, and a grinning Cole McLaughlin appeared. "You're early, Missy," he said, and pulled me inside.

"It was the only way I could get here alone," I told him, gripping the suitcase tightly "And I've got your money."

"Well isn't that nice of you!" he said happily, and led me into a huge room. In a corner, a slumped over Greg sat, looking bruised and hurt and- was that a twisted arm? Tears filled my eyes, and I stuck out the suitcase to McLaughlin.

"Please, just take it," I begged. "Take it, and let me take Greg home."

He hesitated before taking the suitcase, and I rushed over to the unconscious Greg. I didn't even know where to begin as far as checking him over, so I started to shake him, hoping he'd wake up. His eyes fluttered open slowly, though not much because his eyes were nearly swollen shut. "Lexi?" he said hoarsely, and I nodded.

"I'm here, Greg," I whispered, running a hand through his hair and smiling. "You're alright now."

"Be…careful," he choked out, coughing slightly. "He'll get you."

I shook my head, lying it on Greg's shoulder slightly. "No, Greg. I gave him the money. It's all over. You and I are safe now."

He gave me a small smile before looking around. "Then why are we still here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were safe," I explained, and lightly brushed my thumb over his bruised eye. He winced, and I wiped away a tear. "Come on Greg, time to go."

He nodded, and I helped pull him to his feet, tears still streaming down my face. "Where are you going?" McLaughlin asked as Greg stood up.

"Home," I answered, and he set down a stack of money that he was counting.

He just stared at me, as if deciding what to do. And then we heard it. Sirens blaring loudly outside the warehouse, and then over a loudspeaker, "Cole McLaughlin, come out with your hands up. We have you surrounded!"

Cole glanced between me and the cops angrily. "I told you to come alone!" he shouted, and I shook my head.

"I had no idea they were coming! I told them not to!" I insisted, holding Greg up now.

McLaughlin groaned and pulled out his gun, pointing it at Greg. Greg's head looked over at me worriedly, and I set him against the wall. "Listen, missy, you're gonna go out there and tell your boys to go home. When they're gone, that's when I'll let you go. If you don't get them to leave, I kill him."

I glared at him before looking at Greg and sighed. "You need to go, Lexi. Let him shoot me, just get out of here," he whispered, and McLaughlin looked at me funny.

"You gonna listen to him?" he shouted, and I shook my head.

"Those cops will be gone in 10 minutes," I told him, before marching out of the building with my hands up. They all gaped at me, and when I figured McLaughlin was listening, started to plead my case. "You guys are insane!" I shrieked, marching towards Captain Brass and Russell. "If you don't leave, he's going to kill Greg! You put yourself in a hostage situation!"

"It's always been a hostage situation, Lexi!" Nick shouted, and I didn't even look at him.

"Get your uniforms and leave. Everything was going great before you showed up." I snapped, and Brass turned around and looked at Ecklie. Ecklie didn't even respond, just got in his car and drove out of there.

"Clear out," Brass called, and looked at me carefully. "I should fire your ass for doing this."

"Fine," I snapped, and glared over at a very reluctant Nick getting back in his car. "I'll call you when we're out of here."

Brass sighed and got back into his car, but Russell just stared at me. "You knew this wouldn't work if we came," he said to me.

"Yeah," I admitted, nodding. "Now get the hell out of here before you get Greg shot."

He just shook his head, getting the passenger seat of Brass's car. They were the last to leave, and I watched as they got back on the road and drove away. I ran back into the warehouse, where McLaughlin was watching them as well. "Nice work missy."

"Yeah, thanks," I sneered, and helped Greg as I led him towards the door wordlessly. We passed a very stunned McLaughlin, and just as we were almost to the door, he called after us.

"Yo, missy!" he yelled, and I turned around. Pointing his gun at me, he smiled wickedly. "You thought I'd keep my end of the deal?"

There were gunshots, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to come, but it never did. There was a thump, and I opened my eyes. McLaughlin was lying on the ground, blood pooling from his head. Morgan came up behind him, nudging him with her foot, gun still out.

"You saved our lives," I whispered to her, and she gave him a swift kick in the leg. "He's dead, he can't feel that."

"Yeah, it felt good though," she said under her breath before looking over at us. "You guys okay?"

"I'm fine. Greg, how're you feeling?" I asked him, and Morgan opened the door for us as I helped him outside.

"Awful," he breathed, and I set him down on the cement of the alley. "Tell me someone called the paramedics."

"Morgan's calling them, Greg," I said quietly as I sat down next to him on the ground. "Show me any serious injuries."

He just pointed to his ribs, the showed me his arm. "Broken," he said dryly, and I laid my head on his shoulder.

"You are so brave," I whispered to him, and he reached for my hand. I grabbed it, and before he could say anything to me, police sirens were heard again. "They're back."

"Can't I just lie down?" he pleaded, and I shook my head.

"The cement is cold, Greg. And there's unknown nasty substances all over the ground, your open wounds could get infected," I told him, and he smiled slightly.

"Always gotta be the smart one, don't you?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Greg!" Nick called, running over to where we were sitting in the alley. "You okay, man? The ambulance is on its way, where are you hurt?"

Greg chuckled slightly before pointing to me. "She already figured that part out, Nick."

Nick looked at me expectantly, and I motioned to Greg's left arm. "Broken. I imagine there's a few broken ribs in there too."

The ambulance sirens could be heard throughout the streets and I helped Greg stand up. "Why do I have to get up?" he whined, and I brushed a hand over his face.

"You got a long recovery, Greggo," I whispered, and he smiled down at me, but it came out more as a grimace. "You just let me know if you feel more pain."

He nodded, and the ambulance swerved in, the paramedics running out as fast as they could. "We should really stop getting in these, Lex," he joked as they laid him down on the gurney. "Not the best thing for us."

I gave him a sad smile before climbing into the ambulance with him, Nick right behind me. "Probably right, Greg," I said. "Did he hurt you very badly?"

Greg shook his head. "The broken arm is from when he grabbed me," he informed me, and I raised my eyebrows at him. "We ran into the dresser, I think your mirror broke."

"It didn't," I said softly, and looked over to Nick. "Right?"

"Right," he confirmed, and I looked back over to Greg.

"The ribs are from when he kicked me because I told him you would catch him no matter what," he chuckled, and intertwined our fingers. "And the rest," he motioned to his cut lip and swollen eyes. "Are from when he got mad."

I pursed my lips, containing a sob that was fighting to escape from my throat. "I am…really sorry, Greg." I said, my voice strained. "This is all my fault. I'm the one who…who told him we were both CSI's and we both carried guns-"

"You were just trying to get him to leave you alone," he interrupted quietly, and I nodded in agreeance.

"I didn't know he would escape and come after you, Greg," I said, watching Nick look away. In a sense I felt bad for making him feel awkward. But it was the least of my concerns. "Greg…I'm really sorry for doubting you and thinking Catherine was another girl. I just…I…"

The sob forced its way out of my throat, and I tried to push the tears away. This was about Greg and his well-being, not about me. "It's fine," he said quietly, and then he went silent, his eyes shutting.

…

"Lexi?" Sara's voice asked, making me open my eyes. She stood in her usual work attire, watching Greg's sleeping form carefully. She took a seat next to me in a chair, and smiled.

"What?" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes and feeling my contacts jumble around in annoyance.

"He's hanging in there, isn't he?" she asked me, and I nodded.

"He's a trooper, that's for sure," I added, and she watched his heart monitor momentarily.

"Morgan asked me to bring you this," she said, now picking up a bag from on the ground next to her. "You left it in your car, she said you would definitely want it."

I smirked at the suitcase of mine, which mainly held Greg's clothes, favorite chips and iPod. "It's not me who's going to want it…" I sighed, pulling the iPod out. "I wish he would wake up. He did about an hour ago, but of course I was eating breakfast with Finn."

"She visited?" Sara asked, sounding surprised. I nodded, rubbing the back of the iPod.

"Yeah. She said she felt bad because she hadn't spoken to us since we all left for Thanksgiving," I chuckled, shaking my head. "Is Morgan gonna come by later maybe?"

Sara pursed her lips and looked at the ground. "Morgan is…dealing with herself right now."

"Don't tell me she's upset with herself about killing Cole McLaughlin," I groaned, and Sara nodded. "Even _that's _my fault. God, it's like my freaking destiny to make everyone go through shit." Sara laughed aloud, and I turned to raise an eyebrow. "What? It's totally true. Greg and I get in an explosion, Greg gets stabbed, Greg gets kidnapped…"

She shrugged. "You can choose to blame yourself for all that, I guess. Or you could just be there for Greg and keep both of you out of trouble."

I smirked. "Yeah, keep us out of trouble? That plan's not exactly gonna work, we do everything backwards."

"Do you now?" she mused, and I nodded. "Sex on the first date?"

I blushed wildly at her question. "That's incredibly personal," I muttered, and she burst out laughing. I stared at her with wide eyes as she continued to laugh even harder. "What?"

She sobered up so she didn't wake Greg, and turned to look at me. "Everyone in the crime lab already knows the answer to that question," she said, giggling.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I snapped, and she grinned at me.

"We had to scan your bed for the investigation. And wouldn't you know, there weren't any of Greg's little soldiers on those sheets. Anywhere. Just your DNA on the pillows," she said happily, and leaned back in her chair. "You drool, by the way."

I subconsciously touched the corner of my mouth, but blushed nonetheless. "Thank you all for sharing my sex life with everyone."

"Oh, and you know who had the best reaction?" she said giddily, looking at me expectantly and waiting for me to guess. I shrugged. "Hodges!"

"Why's that?" I asked, really dreading the answer.

"I believe his exact words were, 'I _knew _Sanders and Smith weren't hooking up yet. She's too smart'," she laughed, shaking her head. "I think he likes you."

"I don't," I clarified, and she raised an eyebrow. "He's more like my nerdy and socially awkward older brother."

She stifled a laughed before looking back to Greg. "How have we not woken him up yet?" she whispered to me.

"You have," he said, opening one eye. "I was awake long before Sara came in."

I ran a hand through my hair and looked away nervously, his gaze killing me. "I brought you your iPod," I told him, leaning over and dropping it in his hand. He looked down at it curiously, before smiling over at me.

"You're the best," he said proudly, and I rolled my eyes.

"Duh," I said, and he laughed. I pulled the chips out of the bag and handed them to him. His eyes widened in happiness as he tore the bag open.

"You…are…awesome," he said to me through a mouth-full of chips.

"I see you're hungry," Sara noted.

"You go 3 days on nothing but a loaf of bread and hot water," he snapped grumpily, and Sara blushed. I rubbed my eyes, thinking my contacts were playing tricks on me. She _blushed?_

"Didn't mean it like that, Greg," she said softly, and he looked at her slowly before nodding.

"Sorry for being so irritable," he apologized, and she nodded. He turned his attention to me. "Contacts? I thought you had perfect vision?"

"I do," I said uncertainly, and pulled out my contact case, full of solution. "I wear these because I think I look better with green eyes sometimes."

"You're blue ones are perfect, Lex," he said, rolling his eyes at me. "And besides, were you dressing up to come and rescue me?"

I shook my head. "I really just don't even know why I put these contacts in," I replied, screwing the top off of the container. I pulled the contact out of my left eye and dropped it into the solution, earning the weirdest look from Greg. "What?"

"Dead bodies? No problem. You touching an eyeball like that? Unnatural." He told me, looking away as I pulled out the other contact. "Gross."

I rolled my eyes and blinked as my perfect vision returned, and chucked the case back in my bag. "Doctor said you have that wonderful broken arm," I said sarcastically, motioning to his cast. "And 3 broken ribs. Not to mention bruises everywhere."

Greg sighed, closing his eyes all the way. "That's just dandy. Wonder how long it'll be till I'm out of the hospital and back to work then," he said quietly, and I shrugged.

"Depends, I think. Doctor said at least one week-" he let out a groan in protest. "I say two weeks because you need to rest."

"I am so tired of staying at home!" he exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "Getting shanked sucked because I was home for 3 days, now you're saying two _weeks_?"

"Well, I really think those events aren't very compatible, Greg-" I began, but was cut off by frantic hollering from somewhere down the hallway. "That would be your mother."

"You called her?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Um, Greg, I kind of had to. What if we didn't get you back or-"

"Gregory!" she cried, now rushing into the room. Greg closed his eyes, immediately pretending he was asleep. "The nurse said he'd been awake!"

"Oh, he um, got tired," I said quietly taking the earphones and iPod away from him, as well as the bag of chips. "Sorry."

Mrs. Sanders sat down in the chair on the opposite side of his bed, and Sara and I exchanged a worried look. "Mrs. Sanders, I really don't want to tear you away from your son, but maybe we should go see the injury report," Sara said to Mrs. Sanders.

"Oh, yes," she agreed, and stood up. Sara escorted her out of the room, and when she had gone around the corner with Sara, I raised an eyebrow at Greg.

"She's gone," I informed him, and he let out a sigh of relief before opening his eyes.

"I'm not quite ready to face her just yet, Lexi," he told me, pointing to his arm cast. "You know how much this stuff will freak her out?"

"I went to San Gabriel with you, remember?" I reminded him, and he nodded. "I watched her freak out over you getting in a fight, Greg."

"Yeah, so imagine how she'll be with a broken arm and three broken ribs," he replied, and I smirked.

"She's just watching after her Greggo," I cooed, and he gripped my hand.

"My mom is to optima of overprotective, Lex," he said seriously, and I laughed.

"Believe me, I know," I said quietly, leaning in closer to him. "She hung up on me when I called to tell her. She totally thinks it's all my fault."

He kissed the top of head gently, having to strain his neck just to reach me. "She'll forgive you," he promised, and grinned widely. "I know she will."

"Speaking of the mother," I mumbled, watching as Mrs. Sanders ran in frantically again, Sara right behind her.

"Gregory!" she hissed, leaning down to hug her son tightly. Greg moaned, trying to escape her grasp.

"Mom, broken ribs, be _careful_," he breathed, and she instantly let go, but proceeded to kiss his forehead multiple times.

I looked away and stifled laughter. "You had me worried sick," she said dramatically, sitting down in a chair next to his bed. "You're feeling better though, right? Gregory, it was that awful alley beating all over again!"

I felt my eyes fly to the floor, remembering that at the moment, no one in the room knew that I knew about that. Though I didn't know the details, I knew the general idea of how things had happened. "No, mom, it's really not like that at-"

"Lexi told me he was getting back at her," she said, holding her sons hand tightly now. I let go of Greg's other one, maybe so he could fight her off if she tried to hug him again. "Now I know it wasn't exactly her fault, Greg, but maybe you should consider asking Lexi here to go back to her own apartment, honey."

There was a silence in the room, and I clenched my jaw. I was pissed, to say the least. I didn't bring this on, well I guess I did, but how was I supposed to know Cole McLaughlin was going to escape from prison? I wasn't, and now I was getting all the blame for it. "I can't even believe you just said that," Greg muttered softly, and my head snapped up to look at him. He was purely glaring at his mother, and she seemed surprised at this. "Lexi's my _girlfriend_. I really hope that for your own sake, you learn to accept it."

I blushed wildly, and looked over at Sara. She was staring at the floor, clearly just listening. "I just don't want you getting hurt, dear," Mrs. Sanders said, though her voice didn't sound apologetic at all. "It's really something you should consider."

"Nope," Greg answered, shaking his head. "Lexi can't be blamed for this. Remember when Nick got stuck in a glass coffin? Well that could've been me. It could have been a lot worse."

Mrs. Sanders let out a sob, and Greg sympathetically patted her hand. "B-but, G-Gregory, you're g-g-grandmother w-w-as so w-worried!" she cried, holding her head in her hands.

"It's okay to worry," Greg told her quietly. "Fravaer gjore en kjerne dyrke kjaerlig."

Sara and I exchanged confused expressions. "Absence makes a heart grow fonder," Mrs. Sanders said, wiping away a tear. "Or it just makes a mother worry."

Greg chuckled slightly, and involuntarily yawned. "Look, guys, I'm really tired," he sighed, his eyes close to shutting again. "Can you maybe leave?"

"Yeah," I answered, and handed him his iPod, but he grabbed my wrist.

"No, _you _have to stay because that nurse said you have some stuff to sign," he said, his eyes confusing me as to whether he was serious or not. I nodded slowly, sitting back down.

"Bye, Greg," his mom said, kissing his cheek like a mom would. "You get some rest."

"Yeah, bye," he said, and waved goodbye to Sara. When they were gone, he looked over at me. "I'm really, really sorry about my mom."

"Don't be," I said, looking at him honestly. "It was truly all my fault."

He didn't argue, but just nodded. Like he was accepting it. "How's Morgan?"

"Distraught, from what Sara says," I said, shaking my head. "If it weren't for her, we'd both be dead."

"Yeah," he agreed, and rubbed his arms cast. "So I heard what you two were talking about, by the way."

I looked to the left, where Sara had been sitting previously. "Which part?"

"About us not having sex," he said quietly, and rubbed the top of my hand with his thumb. I blushed furiously, and he just chuckled. "Oh come on, you have to admit that it's a little funny that everyone knows."

"More like embarrassing," I mumbled, and he laughed even harder, but clutched his side.

"Damn you," he whispered. "Hurts to laugh."

"Sorry," I said sarcastically. "Guess we just won't talk anymore, because I'm always this funny."

"Or so you tell yourself," he pointed out, and I leaned back in my chair. "What are we waiting on, Lex?"

"For what?" I asked, even though I knew what he meant.

"Sex," he answered. "What are we waiting on?"

I raked a hand through my hair, not really knowing the answer. "I don't know," I said quietly. "Part of me says marriage, but I know that can't be it."

"It's all up to you," he said with a shrug. "Takes two to tango."

"You're saying all of this just to embarrass me, huh?" I said, running a hand across my warm cheeks.

"It's amusing," he said, smirking at me. "God, I feel like I'm _in _a middle schools sex ed class."

"Well how about this," I said, grinning. "Fix those ribs and arm, then we'll tango."

He raised his eyebrows at me and bit his lip. "You sure about that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Stop biting your lip."

"That's what my mom always says," he complained.

"Yeah, she probably doesn't think it's sexy like I do," I mused, and he gaped at me. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, intertwining our fingers. "We still up for jumping off that cliff in May?"

"Tomorrow's the first day of December…so 5 months left," I said, and he beamed.

"It is _so _much fun, Lex," he said happily, and I raised an eyebrow. "As long you don't break a bone. Then that part kind of sucks and-"

"Miss Smith?" a nurse asked, sticking her head in the room.

"Hmm?" I asked, barely looking away from Greg.

"There's someone that would like to see you," she said, crossing her arms at me.

I groaned. "Who?"

"A girl named Maggie Moser? Does that ring a bell?"

**A/N: GREGGOO! WHY DID YOU GO?! Don't ask me! Wait, maybe you should. I AM the author and all…**

**So, what did we think? Greg's back, and so is his mama:D I just love Mrs. Sanders character. Sara came to visit Greg, Morgan shot down Cole McLaughlin. Now can you imagine where I got the idea for Morgan shooting Cole?! I got it from Season 1 episode 22(the season finale) The Strip Strangler, when the dude is about to get Grissom with what was either a pick ax or a shovel(I saw it a few weeks ago, so I don't exactly remember:P) and Catherine shoots him dead on the spot. Such an awesome episode!:D**

**Anywho, finished writing The Newbie last night. I think I've already explained that I was writing this entire story way faster than I was publishing it.:P But it came out to 28 chapters, with a huge freaking ending. I'm working on Chapter 1 for the sequel today.:) but I've rewritten in like 4 times:p I'm gonna go for updating ever Monday and Friday from now on, so expect those days to fantastical!:) **

…**ideas on what I should call the sequel? Creative juices have shut down for the moment.**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Thanks guys!:)**


	15. A Night With The Lab Rats

**A/N: So I have a job to do in this beginning AN: Job #1: Make a disclaimer. I don't own CSI. Sorry! Job #2: I should inform you that I got slightly teary eyed to know we are on chapter 15. I don't really know how many chapters this is going to take, but I'm guessing somewhere in between 25 and 30. *MIND BLOWS ON CUE*. Haha. But you can expect a sequel, don't you worry!:D**

I looked at the nurse, practically gaping at her. She raised her eyebrows at my expectantly, and I let go of Greg's hand, trying to blink the shock away. "What is she doing here?" I asked, and the nurse shrugged.

"She's pregnant?" she said hopefully, and I sighed.

"Obviously," I said, stepping out of the room. Talking nervously to the receptionist, was Maggie. And boy had her belly gotten bigger. Had she been pregnant longer than I noticed?

"Lexi!" she said happily, smiling at me. I smiled back and walked over to her, hugging her carefully.

"How's your baby?" I asked her, and she rubbed her stomach.

"Oh, we're all doing just _fantastic_," she said enthusiastically. "They've got my dad in jail, court date is sometime next month. And even better," she paused, looking around. "I'm having twins!"

"Way to embrace it, Maggie!" I said, a sense of pride in the burdened girl rising up inside me. "You'll be a great mother."

"Because they're my babies no matter what," she said confidently. "That's what my therapist said."

"Well I am very impressed," I said, reaching out and touching her stomach slightly. One of them kicked, and I felt a pang of something inside me…jealousy? "When are you due?"

"5 months," she said, and tapped her stomach lightly with her index finger. "Shh, you guys. Be quiet!"

I laughed at her. "Any idea what the gender is yet then?"

She nodded proudly. "But I really need to talk to Greg and you both."

"Okay?" I asked unsurely, leading her into Greg's room. He was hooked up into his iPod, jamming peacefully to his so un-peaceful music. "Greg."

He pulled the earphones out upon seeing me and turned the music way down. "Yeah?"

"Maggie wants to talk to us," I said carefully, and he nodded, sitting up in his bed. Maggie fidgeted with her fingers nervously, now avoiding eye contact.

"I, um, only have 4 months to go," she said carefully, rubbing her stomach. "And my grandmother Irene has only asked me one thing to do."

"Which is?" I prompted, and she sighed.

"I was wondering if you guys would…be the godparents," she said quietly. Greg and I exchanged a shocked look before I glanced back at her.

"Absolutely," I said firmly, and she smiled brightly.

"Thank you, so, _so _much," she said, and even smiled at Greg. "Unfortunately, I'm moving to Seattle with my grandmother in a week. But I just…wanted to make sure someone would be there for my kids."

"As in plural?" Greg asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"She's having twins, keep up!" I informed him, and he glanced at her stomach.

"It's a boy and a girl," she said happily. "One of each! Can you believe it?"

I squealed with her, and watched as Greg slowly put his iPod back in his ears. We both ignored him pointedly, and he just shrugged. "What are you naming them?"

"Christopher and Emily," she said, pulling pictures out from her pocket. "Aren't they just the smallest things you've ever seen?"

I nodded, examining the pictures. "They'll be great, Maggie-"

Her phone went off, and she glared at the screen. "Excuse me for a moment," she said unhappily, hurrying out of the room. I looked anxiously at Greg, who was just giving me an amused expression.

"What?" I asked, returning to the seat I'd been in originally.

"You're jealous of her," he noted, and I shook my head.

"Her situation is improving, but not by much-"

"No, you're jealous of her babies," he interrupted, and grabbed my hand. "You wanna be a mama!"

"If you were trying to rhyme, then that really sucked." I said bluntly, and he just gave me a laugh, shaking his head and intertwining out fingers.

"I think you'd be a good mom," he commented casually, and I narrowed my eyes.

"Yeah, when I'm _married_." I said sternly, and he squeezed my hand.

"Duh! Keep up, Lexi!" he mocked me, and I gave him a hit on the shoulder.

He flinched, and guilt consumed me instantly. "Are you okay?" I asked, lifting up the corner of his shirt to see his shoulder.

"Please, Lexi," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm fine."

"I see right through your macho act," I clarified, and he leaned back in his bed.

"What macho act?" he asked innocently. "No need to act out what you already are."

I laughed, but watched his face carefully. "Greg, you might just be the best thing that ever happened to me," I said quietly, leaning closer to his face.

"That's my line," he muttered, our faces inches apart.

"Deal with it." I said, before he leaned forward and kissed me. I inched closer to him, and there was a faint beeping in the background. I ignored it, though it became more persistent and-

"Ma'am, you're running up his heart rate!" a nurse shouted from the doorway. I pulled away, feeling embarrassed, and stared at the ground. "Why do I always get the people that try to bang in a hospital bed?" Greg and I exchanged a bewildered look, and she shrugged. "You two would have done it."

"Um, no," I said, standing up. "Greg has 4 more bones to heal. And I have to leave."

I pecked Greg on the lips before grabbing my purse. "When you come back, bring me a book?" he asked as I was walking out the door.

"Oh sure, I'm sure you're just going to _love _one of the books from my selection!" I said cheerily, and he groaned inwardly. "Saving Zoe sounds good, right?"

Before he could respond, I walked out the door, and in the process, nearly ran into Nick. "Oh, hey," he said, and raised his eyebrows at me. "You leaving?"

"Uh, that would be a yes," I said, frowning. "I do need _some _fair amount of sleep. And I basically got kicked out for running his heart rate up, so-"

"Too much info, Lexi," Nick said, grimacing. I smirked.

"See you, Nick!" I called, and continued my walk as he entered Greg's room.

"Lexi," Maggie's voice said as I walked towards the staircase. Turning around, I could see she was smiling broadly at me. "I just wanted to say thanks."

I nodded and gave her a hug. "Take care of yourself," I said to her, and then motioned to her stomach. "And my little godchildren. I really shouldn't have to see them at all, you get what I'm saying?"

She nodded happily. "Bye," she said, and with that short farewell, walked down the hallway. I continued my walk back down the stairs of the hospital, towards the parking garage. Finally, a few moments of peace-filled _sleep _when I got home, and-

My phone rang uncontrollably from inside my pocket. Pulling it out, I hurriedly crossed the street. "Smith."

"Good to finally get ahold of you!" Hodges's voice said, and I looked around the dark parking garage. Where the hell had I parked…

"Okay? What's going on, Hodges?" I asked absentmindedly, wandering around the parking garage and cursing myself for not writing down what section I was in.

"Well," he began. "I was supposed to call you and let you know that Russell wants you to fill in for the trace tech position tonight."

"You're joking, right?" I said, my mouth probably hanging open.

"Uh, no." he said, and I closed my eyes and stopped wandering around.

"I have slept in a hospital chair all freaking day, and I need to fill in as a lab tech? I don't even have training in that field-"

"Liar, liar!" Hodges sang into the phone. "Russell said I could help him the field, as long as I could find-"

"Hodges," I said, carefully restraining my anger. "Don't tell me that you're thinking about becoming a CSI."

"Oh, of course not!" he exclaimed, and I sighed with relief. "I just take my chances to go out in the field when they're offered to me."

"Hodges, I am sorry, but I cannot be the replacement tonight." I said firmly, and he paused.

"All you have to do is sit there in the lab- and do nothing! I swear, it's been an incredibly slow night!" he promised, and I hesitated.

"You owe me," I snapped, and I'm pretty sure he giggled into the phone. "Your laughter frightens me."

"See you in 15 minutes!" he said happily, and hung up. I stood there, grasping my cell phone and wondering what the hell I had just done to myself.

…

"Greg!" I whispered into the phone, hiding behind a microscope.

"Why are you whispering?" he asked from the other end.

"These lab rats, they scare me!" I hissed, looking up from the microscope to where Henry and Mandy were flirting. I felt a grimace fall onto my face, and quickly looked away. "What do I do?"

"They're not that bad," Greg said, and stopped shortly. "Why does it matter? Aren't you supposed to be at home?"

"I'm covering for Hodges tonight," I said shortly, making sure no one saw me. I was, of course, just sitting there by the microscope and doing…well, nothing.

"You're joking, right?" he asked, and I scoffed.

"Do I sound like I am in the joking mood right now?" I said harshly, and could hear laughter in the background. "Do you have me on speaker phone?"

"Yes, and it's hilarious!" Nick said in the background, dying of laughter.

"Shut up!" I seethed. "I agreed to cover for Hodges so he could venture into the field for a while, but this is terrible! No laughing, no joking, just awful flirting and book reading!"

"Sounds like you belong there," Greg said, and I scoffed.

"No, I do not," I said. "These wheely chairs are fun though-"

"Lexi?" a voice asked from the door. In the process of turning around really quick in my chair, I ended up falling.

"Are you okay?" Greg's voice asked, though I thought I heard a hint of concern.

"I spoke too spoon," I groaned, standing up and brushing off my jeans.

"Am I interrupting something?" Archie asked from the doorway, smirking.

"Uh, no," I said, shaking my head.

"Am _I _interrupting something?" Greg asked.

"Uh, no," I replied.

"Then who are you going to talk to?" Greg asked, clearly trying to hide his laughter.

"I don't really know," I said, pushing the wheely chair away from me and leaning against the counter. "Just…give me a minute Greg, okay?"

I turned back to Archie, setting my phone down on the counter. "Why are you in the lab?"

"Covering for Hodges," I said, giving him a thumbs up. "Though I don't really know what I'm doing, so..."

"Giving Hodges his 15 minutes of fame?" Archie guessed, and I nodded.

"I feel bad for him, cooped up in here all night," I said, and tossed a paper to Archie. "But look what I found taped to the wall behind a file cabinet."

"Is this really Hodges when he was a kid?" Archie asked, eyes widening.

Voices squeaked from my phone on the table, and I picked it up. "What? I told you to give me a minute-"

"We want to see the picture!" Greg exclaimed, and I looked between Archie and I.

"Um, I'll bring it to you tomorrow," I said, and rubbed my eyes. Must. Not. Yawn. "After I get some sleep."

"Geez, you and always needing sleep," Greg teased, and I rolled my eyes.

"Sorry if I'm not a human _owl_," I snapped, and he laughed into the phone. "And didn't your mom tell you to get some rest?"

"I don't remember any of that," Greg claimed.

"You have broken bones and a bruised face, not memory loss." I sneered, and hung up the iPhone, dropping it onto counter and now facing Archie.

"So, I heard about the bed sheets," Archie said suggestively, and I gaped at him.

"Me too!" Hodges said, walking by the door and stopping quickly. "Nick is very good at re-acting he and Sara's reaction."

Henry walked by, stopping slowly and backing up a little. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't laugh."

"Yes you did!" Archie claimed, turning around to look at him. My blush was now a deep crimson, and I just stood there. The lab rats had gotten me good.

"You see, that's kind of personal," I said nervously, and Archie turned back around.

"Not anymore!" he said, and shrugged. "Everyone should be teasing Greg about it anyways, not you."

"Uh-huh…well, um, Hodges, I'm giving you your lab back!" I said grandly, sticking the picture of him in my pocket, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"What's that?" he demanded, and I shrugged.

"Nothin," I said quietly, and he narrowed his eyes before gaping up at me.

"That's my picture," he whispered, more to himself than me. "Give it back."

"No." I said, crossing my arms. "No way in hell, my dear friend."

"Who refers to Hodges as their friend?" Mandy asked as she came and stood beside Henry.

"Lexi, apparently," he muttered, and I pulled the picture out of my pocket, holding it in the air.

"Come and get it," I taunted, and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm taller than you," he reminded me. I grinned.

"Not faster!" I exclaimed, sprinting out of the lab. I could hear an irritated yelp as Hodges chased after me. I laughed aloud, probably not having this much fun since Morgan chased me up the stairs. I took a glance back and laughed at how awkward Hodges ran. But he was close to me. I did something that I hadn't done since I was 6 and played little league softball: I slid.

I slipped right underneath the table that was going to block me from continuing on in my path, leaving Hodges to figure out how he'd get past it himself. I stuck my tongue out and ran straight for the copy room. I slammed the picture down, shut the top tightly, and pressed copy: 45 times.

I then ran back out to where Hodges was trying to crawl underneath the table. "You can't catch me!" I sang, and jumped onto the table, running across it wildly before jumping off and smirking at Hodges.

"Just...give…me…the...picture," he panted, and I laughed manically.

"Oh, Hodges," I said sweetly, extending a hand and helping him up from the ground. "I don't know why they put a table in the middle of the hallway, but it was really funny to watch you crawl."

"I did that!" Bobby called from behind one end of the table. I gave him a thumbs up.

"You lab rats aren't half bad," I said, shrugging. "But my stuff just came out of the copier."

Hodges eyes widened as I jumped on top of the table again, sprinting and jumping off before racing down the hallway, noticing Hodges had made it under the table this time. I snatched up the copies, holding them close to my chest as he reached where I was. "45 copies of my childhood. Come on, Lexi, please don't."

I raised my eyebrows suggestively. "Oh Hodges," I said with a sigh. "You don't owe me one anymore!"

And with that, I sprinted back down the hall, now feeling very low on energy. I rushed over to Henry, Archie, and Mandy, all of whom were just staring at me with shocked expressions. I handed them each a pile of pictures. "Split up!" I demanded. "Hide those papers somewhere he won't find them!"

They nodded enthusiastically and split up, Henry looking slightly hesitant but continuing anyways. I turned around to see an exhausted Hodges. I crossed my arms and gave him a smug look. "I win."

"And I am too old to be running around like that!" he said, rubbing his forehead. "Do you and Sanders run up and down the stairs every day or something?"

"Nope," I replied, smirking. "Short and quick!"

"Yes," he agreed. "You are very short. I, however, am just out of shape."

I scoffed. "Whatever, Hodges. You know I'd be faster than you any day."

"Uh-huh, sure you would, Lexi. But I really think that based on the physical size and shape of your body-"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, nothing, but you are rather-"

"Rather what, Hodges?"

"Would you two _shut up_?" a voice snapped, stepping in between us. We both looked up to see a very amused DB, raising his eyebrows. "I leave you in the crime lab alone for 5 minutes and this is what happens?"

"Sorry," I mumbled, and scooted away slowly. "_But _I have to go!"

"Hold it!" Russell said, and I turned around, smiling innocently at him. "Why are you back at work anyways? I told you that you _have _to stay with Greg for the next week and a half. It's day two."

"Hodges asked me to fill in for him," I said simply. "Even if I know zilch about trace stuff."

Russell shot Hodges a glare. "Okay, note to self, take a CSI with me instead of Hodges."

"Where are all the CSI's then?" I asked, feeling like there was an absence in the lab.

"Oh, Morgan's taking some recovery time, Greg's in the hospital, Nick is visiting him, you're _supposed _to be on leave, Sara got so tired she couldn't work, and Finn has the flu."

"This is just a bad week for everyone," I mused, and he laughed.

"All will be well tomorrow! Everyone except you and Greg will be here." He said, then chuckled. "And I mean that. Don't show up."

"Yes sir!" I said, and rushed into the lab, snatching up my purse. "See you soon, Russell."

He raised an eyebrow. "No, you won't."

"Aren't you going to visit Greg at some point in time?" I reminded him, and he nodded.

"Then I guess you will see me eventually," he agreed. "I'll most likely head over there this morning after shift…how's he been?"

"Tired," I noted, stifling a yawn at the thought of sleep. "But holding up well, actually. His nurse said he's made a fantastic jumps start to recovery. The ribs will take a month to heal, the arm 2 months. But she said he can be back to work in 3 weeks," I paused. "And I'll bet that if you don't let him back in 3 weeks, he'll die of boredom."

"I see," Russell said, sounding amused.

"Bye!" I said, waving and heading for the door, where I ran into Mandy and Henry. "Did you hide them?"

Mandy grinned, nodding. "Oh, we hid them. We hid them so well that only _we _know where they are!"

"That was kind of the point," I mumbled, but hoped she didn't hear my blurt. I needed sleep, don't judge me! "But really, whoever visits Greg next needs to just leave them with me."

"And if you're not there?" Mandy asked.

"Leave them with Greg," I said, shrugging. "But I'll be there."

"Got it," Henry said, nodding. I gave them a wave and walked out of the crime lab.

That was probably the most fun I'd had in a long time.

….

The hospital was pretty empty at 2 in the morning.

I gave the nurse a bright smile before walking down the hallway, over to Greg's room. I slowly and quietly set my books down next to his bed, bringing him all of my old forensics books. I sighed, leaning back in the waiting room chair. My sweats, slippers, and baggy sweatshirt really matched the scene well.

I closed my eyes, sleep taking me over instantly.

"_Melissa, put the gun down," the unarmed Gove begged. I winced at the scene, being a brand new CSI level 3 and all. Gove's daughter was really pretty, actually. Dark black hair with freaky bright auburn eyes. She looked like Gove too. _

"_You have screwed up _everything_!" she screeched, and I tried to hold my gun steady in my hands. I knew she couldn't see me, I was behind boxes in a storage unit. My first case as a CSI Level 3, just wonderful. "I am the best thing you will _ever _have!"_

_Gove nodded. "Yes, Melissa, I know. We have to arrest you though. You're killed Jane Harrington."_

_She choked out a sob, and click sounded from her gun. "No, Dad. I didn't mean to. She was a lying bitch, she attacked me first!"_

"_Then they might rule it out as self-defense," he promised. "Only way you're make this whole thing work out is if you put the gun down, Melissa."_

"_NO!" she shrieked, and raised her gun. I had no choice but to fire, before she did. My bullets made a scary contact with the back of her head, her lifeless body falling to the ground instantly. _

_Gove and I stared at each other momentarily. I had done it now. I'd killed my boss's daughter. I hated killing people. You always just snatched their lives away cruelly. First dad, then the guy who held us hostage in Phoenix, and now Melissa Gove. Just great. "She's dead."_

"_I'm so sorry, sir," I said, dropping my gun. The sound of it hitting the ground struck a chord in me, and I closed my eyes. "I didn't want to, but she was going to kill you."_

"_You killed my daughter." He stated, and I nodded. "YOU KILLED HER!"_

"_If I didn't, then you'd be dead yourself!" I reminded him, and he just glared at me. _

My eyes snapped open at the feeling of something shaking me awake. I looked around to see Russell staring at me worriedly, looking between Greg and I. Greg was just watching me with wide eyes. I brushed bangs out of my face impatiently. "Sorry, did I interrupt?" I asked, my morning voice groggy and scratchy.

"No," Greg answered wearily. "But you _were _having a panic attack. You okay?"

"Yeah, totally," I said, nodding. "Bad dream is all. Promise."

"You should have gone home and slept," Greg informed me, pointing to my chair. "That doesn't exactly look comfortable."

"No." I said, shaking my head. "I'm totally fine here, Greg."

"Well if he doesn't make you go home, I will," Russell spoke up, eyeing me. "You _really _should go home and sleep, Lexi."

"I did sleep!" I defended, crossing my arms. "For…" I checked my watch. "6 hours."

"Go home." Greg demanded. "Get some rest."

"Yes, mother," I said irritably, causing he and DB to laugh. "I left some books for you."

"Thanks," Greg said gratefully, and looked around. "Now get the hell out of here before my mom show up,"

I rolled my eyes but proceeded to the exit of the hospital, pulling out my cell phone as I did so.

"Brody." Morgan answered, and I blinked at the terrible sunlight outside.

"Hey, it's Lexi," I said happily, shielding my eyes. "You up for lunch later?"

"Yeah, what's the occasion?" she laughed, and I continued to press my car key, still not seeing any small lights light up.

"I just wanna talk about…the warehouse." I said, struggling to get the words out.

"Why?" she asked uncomfortably, and I sighed.

"Because I know how you feel."

**A/N: BAM! HOLY GODS OF CODIS THIS WAS A FUN CHAPTER TO WRITE!:DD You don't even know… **

**Haha okay, give me thys opinions! (what the hell language am I speaking…) I really enjoyed writing the scene with the lab rats, as well as the scene with Maggie Moser. I am sorry to say she is moving away I couldn't deal with her weighing down on my shoulders, whispering to me, "PSSTTT! PUT ME BACK IN!" so I did, only to ship you away. Enjoy your time in Seattle, my dear! **

**And the dream.:) Oh gosh, this is a reminiscence of what Lexi told Nick in the hospital as she was walking back from Gove asking her if she was dating Greg. Remember that? **

**Um, the heart monitor thing? Freaking hilarious part to write, JUST SAYIN!**

**So on that note, I wanted to apologize for everyone being in the hospital!:( I'm sorry! It will end soon(the hospitalness, not the story!) so bear with me! Greg's got 1-2 more chapters in the hospital, I swear!**

**My dears, you are awesome reviewers. Thanks so much for listening to this rant and I will see you next chapter.(:**

**But don't forget…**

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!**

**Thanks dudes!:)**

**P.S: Next update will be Monday, and I was going to update yesterday but we lost our volleyball game so I was in too bad of a mood to go through and edit. I worked on the sequel instead, hehe.:) But I will give you this, I'll update on Thursday if I win my game.:) **

**Thanks to smuffly, my anon reviewer, and Thepheonix1996.**

**And Thepheonix1996, I don't mean to torture, I would just like to keep updates spaced so I don't finish the story in a hurry.:) **

**Smuffly, thanks for your PM, but what does the term "roll on" mean? Am I missing out on something British here? I figured it meant "screw it" in American? Lol.:)**


	16. Raining Rooftop

**A/N: I don't own CSI! Sorry bros!**

"Good to see you again," I said, smiling at Morgan as we both sat down.

"Yeah, shift's been weird without you or Greg," she said, and I raised my eyebrows.

"I thought you didn't come back to shift last night," I told her, awaiting a waitress. "I was there."

"Did you get kicked out?" she asked, laughing.

"No," I said, crossing my arms. "I was covering for Hodges."

"Do you even know anything about trace?" she asked in disbelief, and I shrugged.

"I never even did any trace work, so it was all well." I explained, and she rolled her eyes as the waitress approached.

"Lemonade," she said, before the lady could even talk.

"Ice tea, thanks," I said, and the waitress shuffled away. "So, how was your night off?"

"Exhausting," she answered. "I didn't sleep at all."

"You know," I said quietly. "I killed my bosses daughter. And a hostage keeper. And the guy that stabbed Greg." I decidedly left out my father, figuring I'd tell her if it came up.

"I know," she said, sighing and rubbing her temples. "I just can't get the image out of my mind."

"Takes a while," I admitted, thinking back to the image of my father falling onto the ground, lifeless. "But once you're over it, it's just a part of life."

She nodded in agreement. "Work helps take the sting off."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "And I'm not trying to change the subject here, but…you and Nick?"

She gaped at me. "Absolutely not!"

"Yeah, okay," I said, chuckling quietly. "But you have to like _someone. _Hodges, maybe?"

She just stared at me, jaw practically detached from her face. "I'm going to be sick."

"I was joking, chill," I laughed, and she closed her eyes.

"Your friend, Ryan…is he married? Or with anyone?" she asked nervously, and I inwardly sighed.

"Engaged," I said. "Even if I would rather he marry you than Grace."

"Ew," she said, grimacing. "That who he's marrying?"

I frowned. "I get that Grace is beautiful and all, but…she's just so mean," I complained, and Morgan shrugged.

"I think weird would be a better definition of her," she said, deep in thought. "When she was in the hospital, she was only drinking green tea."

I laughed, just as the waitress set our drinks down on cue. I waved and thanked her, and she nodded, walking away from us. "Grace has always had weird diets," I said, scratching my head in slight confusion at my own ex-coworker.

"I could tell," she mused, and I sipped at my own ice tea. "Anyways, you and Greg though? We never got to discuss this!"

I stopped sipping my ice tea and set it down, looking up at her. "Surprise?" I tried, and she burst out laughing.

"Oh I just _knew _you'd be together!" she squealed, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, you were right," I sighed, and looked at her seriously. "I…I think I'm in love with him."

"Well of course you are!" she said happily, leaning back in her chair. "You guys are meant to be together!"

"Oh, shut up," I said bitterly, and she smiled to herself.

"Sara told me about the bed sheets," she said, pursing her lips and looking up at me sheepishly.

"Why does everyone keep talking about that?" I exclaimed, setting my hands down on the table and massaging my temples. "So what if we haven't had sex yet?"

I said the next part quieter and she shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, Lex," she said, looking around. "I guess everyone just thought that Greg was so…anxious, I guess."

"He kind of is, huh?" I said, and she shrugged again.

"I mean, it's all in your opinion," she told me, and I bit my lip in nervousness.

"He's a great guy," I said, sipping at my ice tea again. "He said we can wait."

"Then, as you said, he's a great guy," Morgan agreed. "Besides, he definitely doesn't seem like the type to pressure you."

"He's not." I said, and paused. "But I told him we would as soon as his bones healed."

She just shook her head and laughed. "You guys are such a cute couple."

"Only because I'm in the relationship," I said playfully, and she rolled her eyes.

"You think you'll marry him?" she asked me seriously, and I shrugged.

"When I met up with Catherine, she said to give it a year," I said, chuckling at the end.

"Would you say yes, if he asked you in a year?" Morgan asked anxiously.

"I don't really know," I said truthfully. "A year…really isn't that long."

"True," she acknowledged, sipping her lemonade. "But I think you would say yes."

"Do you now?" I sighed, smirking at her.

"If you don't, you have to set me up with Ryan," she challenged.

"He's engaged!" I reminded her, and she shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter to me."

"Morgan!" I scoffed, and she looked at me innocently.

"What?" she laughed.

"You can't go after married men!" I exclaimed, and she shook her head at me.

"Engaged," she corrected, and gave me a smug look. "Nothing's legal quite yet."

….

"Sanders," a voice next to me answered, and I groggily turned over in my uncomfortable chair. Greg was holding my phone to his ear, and I sighed. Too late to take it back now. "She's asleep."

I gave him a bewildered looked, and he laid back down in bed. There was lots of speaking from the other end of the phone before Greg finally hung up. "Who was it?" I asked, taking my phone back.

"Archie," he sighed, closing his eyes. "And Henry. They're both freaking out about some picture- said that Hodges almost got them? And that he'd tell Ecklie?"

I groaned, calling Archie back. "I knew you weren't asleep!" he said into the phone.

"Yes, I'm sort of awake," I said, rubbing my eyes. "Now what do you need? Greg's getting released today, I should be packing my stuff up right now."

"Hodges said if we don't give him the pictures he'll tell Ecklie!" Henry's voice said, and I smirked.

"Stick them in my mailbox on the way home, that way I can distribute them when I come back to work." I told them. I hung up, and looked over at Greg.

"You successfully got a picture of Hodges?" he guessed, and I nodded. "You said you'd show it to me, remember that?"

I smirked and nodded, and he gave me a satisfied grin. "I want them to let you out already," I whined, popping my neck. "I hate this chair."

"Yeah, another hour and I'm free though," he said, smiling. "Free from this hell that is hospital food!"

We both busted up laughing, and I tried my hardest to stop because the old people in the room next to us were giving us dirty looks. "Don't think I'm making you anything special," I told him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Nothing special for the crippled person?" he asked in a small voice, and I shook my head.

"I don't know how to cook that much," I explained.

"Oh whatever!" he scoffed. "You cooked for me last time I was on medical leave!"

"Yeah, Macaroni and Cheese," I said sarcastically, and he shook his head.

"Nope. You made spaghetti one night, then a rotisserie chicken the next, and then-"

"Okay, I can cook!" I sighed, and he gave me a satisfied look. "Doesn't mean I'm making you anything special."

"You should get some sleep," he said, looking me over. "You've gotten what- 9 hours in the past week?"

"Don't wanna leave you," I mumbled, reaching out and holding his hand. "Your face is healing well."

"Yeah," he agreed. "And even if you don't wanna leave me, you still need sleep."

"When's your mom leaving?" I asked, changing the subject. He just shrugged.

"I thought she said this morning, but she hasn't come in to say goodbye yet," he said.

"You know, Greg," I said to him quietly, scooting my chair so I was directly next to him. "Everyone in the entire lab knows about out bed sheets. And Archie plans to use them against you."

"Thanks for the heads up," he said, lying his head back on the pillow and staring at the ceiling. "Did they give you a hard time for it?"

"No, why would they?" I laughed, and he shrugged.

"I'm not going anywhere for Christmas, Lex," he all of a sudden told me, looking over. "You up to staying at home?"

"Hell yes," I answered, and he smirked. "Sounds fantastic to me."

"Great," he said, and checked his watch. "Because today's December 1st."

"What am I even going to get your for Christmas?" I whined, and he shrugged again.

"A mistletoe?" he said teasingly, and I rolled my eyes, hitting his unbroken arm. "Okay, so mistletoe is a bad idea, I get it."

"You know, your ribs should be healed by then," I explained, and he nodded to himself.

"Not the arm," he sighed, and I frowned.

"Yeah, that's not gonna be done till January," I laughed, and he rubbed his head in irritation.

"When's your birthday?" he asked me, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Unimportant!" I sang, and he just laughed.

"Yeah, you say that because you don't want to turn 29," he pointed out, and I nodded in agreeance.

"Getting older sucks," I complained. "Most of the people I knew in high school are married, have kids…"

"Why can't we be that?" he asked, turning his head to the side.

"We can," I said, raking a hand through my hair. "But I would like to have a kid before the time I'm 30."

He smirked. "Hey, nothing's stopping you."

"I want to get married first," I demanded, and he nodded slowly.

"Traditionalist," he muttered, and I scoffed. "What? We've done everything else backwards!"

"This is one thing we can't," I said, squeezing his hand.

"When's your birthday?" he asked seriously. "Come on, I'm already in my 30s…"

"Fine," I grumbled, looking away from him. "February 14th."

"No way," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "You're a Valentines Day baby?"

I nodded solemnly. "February 14th, 1984." I paused. "What about you?"

"May 5th, 1979," he answered, and I smirked. "What?"

"You're a May baby?" I mimicked, and he lightly hit me.

"Hey now, lay off the violence while the boss is here," Russell's voice sounded, and we both turned our heads to see him standing in the doorway. "Good morning! Lexi, you look like you slept incredibly unwell, yet again. Didn't you tell her to go home?"

He directed the question at Greg, who nodded. "Quite a few times, actually."

"Well, lucky for you, you're both going home!" he said cheerily, and a nurse walked in behind him. "I got you out early."

"Here," I said, tossing Greg his clothes I'd brought him. "I'll be waiting with DB."

"Yeah, see you soon," he said, waving as we both walked out of the room.

"You happy he's finally getting out?" Russell asked as we entered the waiting room.

"Yes," I replied, settling down in a chair and closing my eyes. "Now I can sleep."

He chuckled to himself and nodded understandingly. "You know, I got some news for you that I think you're either going to completely hate or love."

"Fantastic," I groaned, and opened my eyes. "What's the news?"

"There's a required forensic conference in Reno," he said, and I'm pretty sure my face lit up like a Christmas tree. "But, Greg doesn't have to go. However, am I sending you with Morgan. And someone else, but that part doesn't matter."

I clenched my jaw. "Who might someone else be?"

"Oh, just Hodges," he said, and I sighed. "But it's not like you'll be with him that much at the conference, the Trace and DNA techs are on the completely opposite side of the college campus."

"Great," I said, pulling on my hair. "When is it?"

"Next month," he answered, smiling happily to himself. "4 days without Hodges."

"And Morgan and I, so good luck with being understaffed," I snorted, and he laughed.

"Yeah, I suppose that is the downside," he agreed, nodding. "But really, you guys will have fun. The conference is actually only 2 days long, I'm just sending you for 4."

"I'm going to the spa one of those days," I told him bluntly. "I need to relax, and I'm sure Morgan could agree with me."

"Oh I'm sure," he remarked, and looked over past the receptionists desk. Greg was standing in the doorway, taking the little papers so he could get prescriptions filled. "Looks like Greggo's done. Hey, I'll see you at work in 5 days."

"Yeah, see you then. Bye DB!" I called as he hurried out of the waiting room. Greg gladly accepted the prescriptions for pain meds, and I took his arm. "I am so glad to be going home."

"As am I," he agreed, and together we walked out of the hospital.

…

"You look happy," Greg commented as I spun around, still munching on my donut. "And you're eating something with chocolate."

"First day back at work!" I sang, kissing his cheek. "I am _so _happy, I miss everyone! Even Hodges!"

Greg grimaced. "Really?"

"Yeah, probably not Hodges," I said, now thinking. "But how can you not be happy? It's two weeks until Christmas!"

He grinned. "Yeah, it is. And besides, after my mom this month, she said she'd be sending us presents."

"Free stuff!" I exclaimed, all of my energy forcing me to jump around. "And hurry up, just because you can't go back to work today doesn't mean you have to slow me down!"

"Hey, don't rub it in!" he scoffed, trying to cross his arms. "I have a week left."

"And you shouldn't do that with your sling, Greg," I corrected, taking his good arm away from the broken one. "Why can't you just leave it alone?"

"How am I going to work like this?" he whined, and I shrugged. "Can't even take good pictures or process the scene well!"

"No, but you could swap DNA and blood," I pointed out, and he gave me a deflated look. "Enjoy your alone time!"

"Yeah, I will," he said quietly, kissing my forehead. "Have a good night, honey."

"You too!" I called excitedly, rushing out of my house. "Bye!"

I practically leaped into the Denali, slamming the door shut and turning to the nearest radio station. It was then apparent that Greg obviously had not used my car last.

_Teach me how to Dougie, teach me, teach me how to Dougie._

"All my bitches love me, all my, all my bitches love me!" I sang, slightly embarrassed but feeling simply fulfilled as I drove out of the driveway. In any other situation, I would feel completely compelled to shut the stupid song off and turn to real music, but I was too excited to ruin the mood.

Steering with one hand and dancing with the other, I sang so loud to the music I could hardly hear the singers voice. My phone's ringing interrupted, and I hit it to shut it off. They could wait until I got to work.

The song continued, and as did I. I usually hated that song. But the beat was speaking to me, telling me to sing and pretend none of the people I passed could see my crazy and terrible dancing.

"Lexi?!" a small voice screamed from my phone. I immediately shut the radio off and turned a crimson red as I pressed speaker phone so I could keep driving. "You there?"

"Um, yes," I said quietly, turning onto the street that the crime lab was on.

"It works, Arch!" Nick called, and my eyes widened.

"What works?" I exclaimed, and Nick's laughing could be heard on the other end.

"Our new software," he said, and I could hear him smiling. "It records all phone conversations."

"Delete it!" I screamed, pulling into the parking lot instead of the garage tonight. "Nick, this better not get out to anyone!"

"Do you have the pictures?" Archie whispered into the phone, and I groaned.

"No, I left them at home. I'll swing by and get them if we go on a scene okay?" I compromised.

"Hey, you can't take that! Hodges!" Nick yelled, and there a brief maniacal laugh from the other end, along with a shuffle. "Hodges!"

"What's going on?" I asked, taking my phone off speaker and pressing it to my ear as I turned my car off. "Hello?"

There was a click, and I rolled my eyes. Leave it to them to not answer and hang up on me. I opened the doors to the crime lab, feeling at home again. "Nice to see you!" Judy at the front desk greeted, and I grinned at her.

"Thanks, you too," I replied, and continued down the hallway to find Nick. And where else would I find him, but in the break room. "What are you doing?"

He looked up from where he was on the phone. "Trying to get Hodges to give me back the recording." I gaped at him. "Sorry?"

"Yeah right," I scoffed, and he just shrugged. "Where _is _Hodges?"

"Hiding somewhere in the lab," he sighed. "It's been a really slow night tonight."

"That's just dandy," I mumbled, and set off towards the locker room. I stuck my earphones in, really wanting to block out my disappointment. I was hoping for some exciting and crazy case, but no. I got a "slow night".

Slipping my purse into my locker, I looked at the pictures hung along the side. I'd snuck in here on my week off and pinned them all in. One of Greg and I at the hospital, him smiling at the camera and me kissing his cheek. I was pretty sure his mom had taken that when she had come back, sometime in the course of the 4 days he was there. And then another, of Morgan and I on a scene. We both wore dark sunglasses, and both looked exhausted. A victim's family had taken that and sent it to me. And then the last one, a family picture Greg's mom had also taken. At Thanksgiving. Greg's family really looked like a fairytale one and-

"Hello? Anyone there?" a voice yelled, and I pulled my earphones out immediately, looking up to see Russell.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," I apologized, the tips of ears turning red. "I didn't see you."

"And you'll develop hearing loss if you keep those earphones that loud," he laughed, and I gave him a smile, tossing the iPod into my locker as well. "You ready for a case?"

"Very," I said, grinning. I pulled my vest and gun out, and Russell looked around carefully.

"Hey, I know where Hodges is," he told me, and I quirked and eyebrow.

"Do you now?" I chuckled, and he nodded.

"Yeah. You up to getting him? I want him to tag along on this case." He explained, and I just stared at him. "What? It involves some scientist and-"

"And we have plenty of lab techs," I interrupted, and pointed to across the hall. "Can't we take Henry?"

He shook his head. "Hodges is hiding on the roof."

"Fine," I sighed, and zipped up my vest. "What do I do if he won't come down?"

"Tell him I'll cut his overtime off," he told me, grinning. I nodded, confused by that. I set off the stairs to the roof regardless, and when I opened the doors, was met by rain. When had this started?

"Hodges!" I called, but doubted he could hear me. "Hodges!"

"What?" he yelled, appearing from under a satellite dish. When he saw me, his eyes widened, and he stepped back underneath it. "I've already hidden that disc, I'm just hiding from Nick, you know."

"Oh I'm sure," I said, and grabbed his arm. "Russell wants you on a case with us."

He shook his head. "No, that's just an excuse to get me inside."

"Um no, it's what I was told," I said, rolling my eyes and pulling him towards the door. At the last minute, he pushed me away and ran back underneath the roof. As I was about turn around, my wet shoes slipped, sending me flying. I reached out, but felt someone catch me in the nick of time.

"You okay?" Finn asked me, and I gave a nervous laugh.

"I guess," I said, shaking my head. "Just going to get Hodges is all."

"More like Hodges is hiding from you," she joked, and I looked at her solemnly. "He really is, huh?"

"Put nothing past him," I said seriously heading back outside. Hodges wasn't underneath the satellite dish though, and I grumpily continued looking in the relentless rain. "Hodges, get out! You're wasting my time and getting me soaked!"

"Never!" he called feebly, and I looked to where he was hiding behind the door I'd came through. I reached out and grabbed his arm, tighter this time. "Let go!"

"Shut up, Hodges," I snapped, pulling the struggling man inside and shutting the door behind us. "God, you're weak."

"I'll have you know that I work out!" he defended, and I pushed him forward and made sure he didn't try to escape back outside. "Sorry about you getting soaked."

"Yeah, whatever," I mumbled, and wiped off my feet on the carpet at the end of the stairs. "Come on."

Russell was waiting for us by the door to the crime lab, smirking. "That was entertaining."

"How did you see?" I asked, scrunching my eyebrows in confusion.

"Lab security cameras," he said, laughing. I sighed and looked at Hodges pointedly. "And really, Hodges? You're not that strong if Lexi can pull you in."

"She must be very muscular," Hodges said quietly as we exited the crime lab. "I'm serious."

"She's 5'2 and 100 pounds, Hodges," Russell pointed out, and I smirked. "You really shouldn't have lost that one."

"Whatever," Hodges mumbled, and we entered the parking garage. "She's 5'5, though."

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'. "I would love to be, but sadly I am not. I will forever remain at 5'4."

"Is that what you tell everyone?" Russell asked me curiously as we reached his car. I jumped into the passenger's seat quickly, sticking my tongue out at Hodges.

"Yes," I said to Russell as he started the car. "It makes me feel taller on the inside."

…

**A/N: BOO! What did you think?!;) **

**Morgan and Lexi's lunch for starters? Lotzalove you know that part about Ryan was just for you! My plan is coming together well…mwahaha…**

**Okay, and then there was Lexi in the hospital with Greg before he got released. Little romanticness there;) And then birthday thing…how cute! Lexi's birthday on Valentines Day just seemed like a good idea. And baby talk:O don't worry, doesn't mean anything. For now. **

**Holla! Oh gosh I'm excited for the forensic conference(: Some familiar faces are gonna be there! But first we gotta get through Christmas3 and I want Greg's 2 months for his arm to hurry up already!;) I shouldn't complain, I **_**am **_**the author…**

**Okey Dokey, I felt a little risky with the "Teach Me How To Dougie" song. I don't know if anyone else listens to modern pop/rap, but that's kind of my forte for music, regardless of my childhood being country music. So I just stuck that song in there, since it was the goofiest song I could really think of.:P And the voice recording thing…priceless! You guys understood that she had just pressed answer instead of decline, right? Okay, just checking here!**

**Her and Hodges…gosh, I love his character!:) I think that he's kind of a like a weird older and very immature brother to Lexi, as she has said. **

**Getting back to a case next chapter! Excited for that! And I think that a huge part of that is going to be chemicals(Hello, Google!) so that should be a little interesting and definitely require help from the Lab Rats.**

**ONE MORE WEEK TILL GREG IS BACK IN THE FIELD! GAHHH!**

**I hate when I make myself have to wait for stuff…:P**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Thanks guys, you rock.(:**


	17. Recovered

**Disclaimer: Don't own CSI! Welcome to Chapter 17 though! Holy Crap I cannot believe we're here…wth…**

**Oh yeah, the only reason you're getting a Thursday update instead of Friday is because we won our volleyball game, 25-23, 25-5. Smoked em! So I felt happy enough to post a new chapter.:) Enjoy my dears!**

Stepping out of the Denali, I shot Russell a weird look. "Um, what the hell happened here?" I asked uncertainly, and glanced at a giddy Hodges.

"Something blew up." He said simply, and led the way into the house. I followed him, keeping a tight eye on the ever-curious Hodges.

"I can tell," I muttered, as we walked into the owners back room. "Did anyone die?"

"No," Russell answered, shaking his head. "But I have feeling that was the intention of whoever did it."

"What do you mean? It was probably just a mistake of whoever was experimenting with chemicals." I said, looking at the blown up pieces of the table. Hodges leaned down and sniffed the table, and looked up at us.

"I smell sulfuric acid," he told us, and leaned down again. "And turpentine oil."

"Which means explosion?" Russell guessed.

"Very good, sir," Hodges said politely, smiling. "I also smell sugar."

"Carbohydrates increase the explosion," I filled in, and Hodges turned me.

"Yeah," he said in a monotone voice. I glared at him.

"Don't have to be a kiss ass," I whispered in a hushed voice so DB couldn't hear me. He just shrugged. "I see why you brought Hodges."

"Yes," Russell said, nodding. "His weird nose comes in handy."

"Hey!" Hodges said defensively, and I smirked. "My nose is gifted, not weird."

"I got a Windex case," I announced, holding up the slightly melted bottle. "Which has turpentine in it."

"Now where do we get the sulfuric acid from?" Hodges mused, and I fought off a laugh as he walked around the room, sniffing. "Got it!"

He held up a hair dye bottle happily. "Hair dye?"

"You should know what that is," Hodges said, rolling his eyes at me. "You _are _dating Sanders."

I sighed, taking the hair dye bottle from Hodges. "Think we can get any prints off this?"

"Worth a try," Russell said, and I tossed it in an evidence bag and handed it to Hodges.

"Get it to Mandy," I instructed, and grabbed the Windex bottle. I tossed it in a different bag, then handed it to Hodges as well.

"I don't have my own car," he reminded me, and I turned to DB. He looked up and sighed.

"You scratch that car, you're busted," he said, tossing him the keys.

"Yes sir!" Hodges said, and took of walking towards the Denali.

"You sure that's a good idea?" I laughed, and Russell shook his head.

"I once lent Charlie my car, when he was learning how to drive," he explained, nodding to himself. "It came back fine. After I had the paint job redone."

I raised my eyebrows. "There's no way in hell my kids are driving one of my cars," I said, chuckling as I looked out of the house. "Look at the dudes kids. They look like punks."

"Well you're judgmental," Russell mused, and I shook my head.

"No, but look at them. Backwards hats, saggy pants, a shirt 4 sizes too big for them. And they look awfully uncomfortable around the cops," I explained, and Russell nodded.

"Go search their rooms," he instructed, and I took one last look out the window before doing as he said and going into their room.

It was filthy.

Filthy as in porn magazines scattering the floor, and 3 bags of weed out in the open. I bagged the weed, happy we'd at least get them for that. And as I continued on my search, not really knowing what I should expect to find, I lifted up the mattress on the bottom bunk carefully.

"Well, what do you know," I said to myself, a smile crossing my face. I pulled out the sugar package, smirking. "Hey, Russell!"

He hurried into the room. "You find anything?"

"Did I find anything," I chuckled, shaking my head. "Oh I found quite a bit. Porn magazines, which are illegal for minors to own." He nodded. "And weed. Lots of it." I pointed to the bagged evidence. "And now? Sugar, which we think furthered the explosion."

"Regular teenage delinquents, aren't they?" he observed, picking up the evidence bag full of weed.

"That's the assumption," I agreed. "Who's room got blown up again?"

"The father, Thomas Green," he said, and looked around the room. "You think that they blew up their fathers room?"

"Not necessarily," I said, checking underneath the top bunk's mattress. "Oh perfect. 4 containers of Windex."

"Maybe the wanted to keep their room clean?" Russell contemplated, opening the desk drawer.

"You know a pair of teenage boys who keep their room neat and tidy?" I laughed, raising my eyebrows at his theory.

"No. But they were on the football team," he said, pulling out a picture. "And one was dating a cheerleader."

I examined the picture closely. "Hey," I muttered, taking the picture from him slowly. "I know this girl. I saw her on a plane, she sat next to Greg."

"What was her name?" Russell asked, looking over my shoulder.

"Lanie," I muttered, and squinted my eyes. "That's definitely her. She was flying to L.A. as well."

"Didn't know you guys flew down there," Russell commented, returning to the desk. "I figured 5 hour road trip, kind of a romantic thing."

I blushed, and pursed my lips. "We were hardly dating at the time, so no."

He shrugged. "I think it's awful lucky Ecklie didn't switch your shifts."

I nodded. "Definitely. And Greg's been home for the past few days, so he's bored out of his mind."

Russell chuckled. "Just tell him to do what my wife loves- massage your feet."

I gave him a bewildered expression. "As tempting as that offer is…doesn't that require both hands?"

He contemplated this before nodding. "I suppose your right. When is he getting out of that cast anyways?"

"January," I answered, clearing my throat. "His appointment is when I'm in Reno, lucky him."

"He's a big boy, he'll be alright," Russell told me, and I laughed slightly. "What?"

"No, it's just that you're completely right. I just started getting him to let me do both of our laundry. As in he's very independent." Russell turned and looked at me.

"When you've been single for the majority of your life, you learn to be," he said with a shrug.

"Beats me how he was," I breathed.

Russell raised an eyebrow, and I set the mattress down. "I'm going to give these to Brass," I said, holding up the evidence bags. "And have him take the thugs down to jail."

"Is that what you call them?" he asked with a laugh.

"Uh, yes," I said, like it was obvious.

….

"How was work?" Greg asked the minute I stepped through the door.

"Still waiting on pending tox results for these teenage thugs," I sighed, plopping down on the couch next to him. "Weed smokers. Porn watchers. Daddy killers."

"Umm…care to elaborate?" he asked, a smirk playing on his face.

"Okay then. We get to this house, and one of the rooms is just blown to hell. So Hodges uses his freak of nature nose to sniff out the chemicals. Sulfuric acid, turpentine oil, and sugar."

"Big explosion," Greg muttered, and nodded.

"Right. So I venture into these teenagers room. 4 bags of weed, tons of porn magazines all over the floor, and Windex and sugar under the bed." I frowned. "Perverts."

Greg shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, totally pervs," he agreed nervously. "Porn is yucky."

I chuckled, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Nick told me you hid porn in the lab."

"I did not!" he defended. "I just told you, porn is yucky."

"You're a guy. And I'm not stupid," I supplied, and he started playing with my hair. "Don't tangle it, I'm tired."

He laughed slowly, his warm breath hitting my ear and giving me goose bumps. "You know, January 7th, I get my cast off. Lucky number 7," he sang in my ear, and I looked away.

"Yeah, about that," I sighed, rolling over so I was lying my head on his chest. "I'm sort of going to be gone."

"You're kidding me," he said, and I pursed my lips. "Where?"

"Forensic conference in Reno with Morgan," I sighed, and held his hand. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," he said, nodding slowly. "I get it, required stuff. You uh, you excited?"

"Am I excited?" I laughed, beaming. "I am so excited to get out of this city for a while."

"How long is a while?" he said, looking at me worriedly. "You and Morgan are trouble makers."

"4 days," I said quietly. "Besides, how much trouble can we get into with Hodges there?"

Greg stifled a laugh. "You're serious?"

"Wish I wasn't," I groaned, closing my eyes. "Hodges will be a major buzzkill."

"Oh I'm sure," he said, biting his lip.

"Stop that!" I cried, sitting up and looking at him.

"Stop what?" he whined, and bit his lip yet again.

"That!" I exclaimed, pointing to his face. "The lip biting! It's too freaking cute!"

He looked at me smugly. "Didn't know it was possible to be 'too cute'." He formed air quotes with his fingers, and I laid back down slowly.

"Yeah, well for you it is," I said bitterly, and he smirked. "And air quotes are lame."

"You never told me how the case ends," he pointed out. "So how does it?"

"Well I don't have an answer yet, genius," I grumbled, and he nodded. "God, your house is plain."

"Thanks," he said, pretending to be hurt by my words.

"Well don't take it that way," I sighed, sitting up and leaning back against the couch. "It's almost Christmas, no decorations?"

"Uh, no," he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Single guys don't decorate their houses for Christmas, unless they're gay."

"Well you're not single, are you?" I teased, and he rolled his eyes. "We are getting a Christmas tree this year, Gregory!"

"Don't sound like my mother, Lex," he whined, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "You know that's what she calls me."

"Whatever, Young Hojem," I whispered, and he tightened his grip on me.

"Did you eat breakfast?" he asked.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Not hungry."

"You have to eat," he demanded, turning me around to face him. "This is why you're malnourished. And too small."

"And why Hodges shoved me down the stairs," I mumbled, heading for the kitchen.

"Wait…what?" he asked, now confused.

"Well, Hodges accidentally almost threw me down the stairs from the roof to the lab," I explained shortly. "No worries though, Finn caught me."

"Yeah, no worries," he repeated, and I pulled out two bowls. "Why was he on the roof anyways?"

"Hiding from Nick," I said casually.

"Why do I always miss the good stuff?" he said with a groan, and I just shrugged. "Anyways, why was he hiding from Nick?"

"Oh, he just…stole a tape from Archie or something," I said, pulling out my Special K. "What cereal, Greggo?"

He smiled. "Fruit loops, as always." I shook my head at his inner child and pulled out the box. "What was so important about the tape?"

"I don't really know," I lied, and poured us each a bowl of cereal. "You wanna see the pictures of Hodges though?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, didn't you hide them here?"

"Upon request of Archie and Henry," I said innocently, and pulled the milk out of the refrigerator.

"So then where are they?" he asked, rubbing his hand together. "Dirt on Hodges is like whip cream on ice cream."

"I'm almost positive I've told you this before but…you're acronyms suck." I said bluntly, and reopened the refrigerator. I reached all the way back, even behind the left over pizza from last night. And stuck to the back of the fridge, were the pictures.

"You hid pictures in our fridge?" Greg asked frantically.

I nodded. "Didn't want you to find them, you'd blow the surprise."

He just shook his head, and I handed him one of them. His eyes widened, and he busted up laughing. "No way in hell did you just get a picture of Hodges when he was in like 6th grade."

"Oh, but I did!" I said happily, looking at the picture. Dorky Hodges, standing proudly by his chemistry set and crossing his arms. His hair is neatly combed, his glasses and braces perfect as well. "I am going to love seeing his reaction to this."

"Where did you even find it?" he asked in awe, narrowing his eyes. "His mom?"

"Nope!" I said, grinning. "When I was filling in for him, it was behind a filing cabinet."

"You are the best girlfriend ever," he muttered, and stuck the picture to the fridge. I handed him his bowl of cereal, smiling proudly. "You get dirt on Hodges, you bring it home-"

"I show the whole lab," I finished happily, jumping onto the counter and eating my Special K. "It's all in a day's work, Greg."

….

"Henry, I'll trade you," I announced, entering the lab. "One tox report for one picture of Hodges."

"Deal," he said, and pulled the paper out of a file. We swapped papers, and he just shook his head. "I'm sure Hodges will have a panic attack about this."

"Of course he will," I laughed, and worked my way down the hall. I took the already taped pictures and stuck them to doors, reading my tox report at the same time. High levels of marijuana, even some alcohol in the system.

I lifted my head up and stuck the second to last picture on the break room door, then hurried down the hall. "Lexi, what do you have there?" Hodges asked me as I entered the lab. I stuck the copy to his door and smiled. "Oh no."

"Oh yes!" I said, smiling. "And everyone's seen it by now, dearest Hodges."

"That's low, Lexi," he said quietly. "Even for you."

"Is it?" I teased, and he sighed.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." And with that, he reached over and pressed a button. Up until that moment, I'd just been leaning against the door frame and smirking. But now my expression changed to pure horror.

"_Teach me how to dougie, teach me, teach me how to dougie." _My voice rang through the entire lab, and I felt my face turn pale. Hodges smiled pleasantly at me.

"_All my bitches love me, all my, all my bitches love me."_ I began to feel light headed, and I gripped the door. Laughing surrounded me, and I swallowed hard. I was becoming dizzier at the sound of my voice rapping. I heard someone say my name, and I blinked.

Then it all went black.

…

"Lexi?" a voice asked worriedly, and I opened my eyes quickly. Finn and Russell were leaning over me. I closed my eyes again, my head still spinning. "Hey, can you hear us?"

I nodded slowly, and there was sigh of relief. "See, no need to freak out, Greg," Nick's voice said, and I looked around.

"What happened?" I grumbled, sitting up quickly.

"Woah there, take it easy," Morgan said from behind all of them, pushing me back down. I felt my head touch a pillow, and I physically relaxed. "You fainted."

"What the hell?" I asked in disbelief. "Why did I faint?"

"You went into shock," Doc Robbins voice said from behind some people. "Induced by too much surprise and embarrassment."

I looked around. "Greg." I said, blinking. "Where's Greg?"

"Right here, Lex," Greg said, stepping in from the back of the crowd. "You okay?"

"Totally," I answered, and stood up. "Really guys, I'm fine. Sorry about that, freak accident."

Some of the lab techs looked at me skeptically, and I shrugged. "She says she's fine, leave her alone," Sara said to everyone, and they all scattered.

"Go back home, Greg," I instructed, leaning on his shoulder. "I'm okay."

"Yeah, sure you are," Greg sighed, and kissed my forehead. "But I gotta kick Hodges ass first."

"No," I said sternly, and pointed to his cast. "Crippled people can't fight. And it's my fault, I hung those pictures up. Totally and completely asked for it."

"Do you realized how hard this cast is?" he asked me, holding his sling up. "This could knock him out for days!"

"It could, sweetie," I agreed, touched by his rage and protectiveness. "Now I don't know who called you, but-"

"Nick called me," he explained. "When your girlfriend just falls over backwards in the hallway, you should probably show up and make sure she's okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him. "Might have been me not eating dinner before I left, empty stomach or something."

"Mhm," he said cautiously. "You sure you're feeling well?"

"Greg," I whined. "I'm _fine."_

"Alright, alright," he laughed, stepping away from me. "Continue on with your work, I'm just gonna venture into the break room, socialize for once."

"Have fun with that," I laughed, and headed for DB's office. Still needed to interrogate those teenagers. "Hey, are the childhood screw-ups ready for us?"

He looked up from where he was staring at his wall, deep in thought. "Case is finished," he told me. "Brass just got a confession. Sit down, will you?"

I nodded, sitting down in a chair across from his desk. "They gonna be in juvenile detention for a while?" I guessed, and he nodded.

"My son Charlie plays for the WLVU basketball team," he told me. "And when he was in high school, there was this kid on the team. Highly susceptible to fainting, and most of the time he fainted because of shock."

"That really sucks," I muttered, and Russell nodded in agreement.

"You're sure this isn't some kind of condition, Lexi?" he asked me nervously. "I can't have people fainting left and right."

I chuckled. "No, not a condition. The only other time I ever did it was when I was in high school, some kid I knew tripped me and made me spill my lunch on my first day of freshman year." I paused. "Stuck me at the nerd table for the rest of high school."

"Alright, I see," he said, looking at me quizzically. "You faint at embarrassment."

"Ding a ling, we have a winner!" I joked, and he just laughed. "But really, I probably deserved it."

"Yeah, but those pictures _were _pretty funny," he admitted, and I nodded in agreement. "Don't tell Ecklie, he might be pissed because he's seeing Olivia."

"And Olivia is…?" I prompted, and Russell smiled.

"Hodges mother." He said, like it was some big news.

"Oh," I said quietly, fighting back a smirk.

"You know, I think Hodges doesn't hate you," he said, nodding to himself. "We had to try and get him to not do CPR on you."

"You're kidding me, right?" I said dryly, and Russell shook his head.

"Nope, the poor guy just kept ranting about how he killed you," he laughed, shaking his head. "Even when we told him you were okay, he then began ranting about how _Greg _was gonna kill him."

I laughed at Hodges words, feeling bad now. "I didn't mean to embarrass him with all those pictures," I said seriously. "I hope he's not upset about it or anything."

"Oh, he's not," Russell said, and nodding to the lab. "In fact, he found it kind of funny."

"I'll be back," I said suddenly, jumping out of my chair and hurrying down the hall, to Hodges lab. "Yo, Hodges?"

He looked up from a file, eyebrows raised. "You doing okay there, Smith?"

"Last name basis now, huh?" I mused, sitting down in a chair. "You're gonna have to get over that if you want to have a decent time in Reno."

He smiled. "I really didn't mean to make you pass out. I just thought-"

"No, Hodges," I said, cutting him off. "It really wasn't your fault at all, just mine."

He went to answer me, but shut his mouth quickly, "You ready to go, Lex? Russell said you should go home early."

I turned around and faced Greg. "Yeah, I'll meet you out there," I said, smiling up at him. "Go on, I'll be there in a minute."

He nodded, and glared at Hodges before walking out of the room. "Sanders really hates me."

"Sometimes Hodges, I don't blame him." I said, grinning as I walked towards the door. "We have one of these on our fridge, actually."

He looked over at the picture and just gaped at me. "Stalking me?"

"Don't make me sick, please," I said politely, and he just shook his head. "It's comedic relief for Greg."

"Alright, I'll buy that." He said, returning to his file.

"Night Hodges," I said, walking out of the room.

"Night, Lex," he said, and I smirked.

"Don't call me that!"

…

**A/N: So, who loved and hated Hodges? If you can't tell, he's becoming a bigger part of this story. I think he provides funniness, as well as a lot of problems( I proved that statement by this chapter). What did you think of Lexi fainting? It really doesn't mean anything, but I wanted to add that in to show Lexi and Hodges weird brother/sister relationship thingy.**

**You guys are awesome reviewers, and I'm sorry this chapter is a little bit less than the rest!:P**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Thanks people.(:**


	18. Christmas in Vegas

**A/N: Don't own CSI! Thanks for the reviews last chapter, let's hit 50 this chapter! Here we goo! I don't know if I'll update Thursday(based off of whether we win our volleyball game) but I will most likely wait until Friday because this week is going to be so hectic that I won't have a ton of time to edit chapter 19 before I post it D: Happy Monday!**

I looked over from where I was sleeping, checking the clock. 6 AM. I grinned widely before jumping over and on top of Greg, knowing my hair was still a crazy mess. "Greg!" I whispered, his stirring form already waking up. "Get up! It's Christmas morning!"

Really, I was just excited to give him the present I found. "Wha…can't we sleep in?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes. I shook my head.

"No, we cannot sleep in!" I scoffed, and kissed his cheek. "Wake up sleepyhead! Don't make me open all the presents by myself!"

"I swear, if it weren't for you, I would have forgotten it was Christmas…" he grumbled, rolling out bed. I quickly wrapped my robe around myself and grabbed my slippers, sliding them on easily.

"I am so excited!" I sang, practically skipping down the stairs. "I think I may have gotten you a good present! It took me so long to find-"

"Stop talking or you'll ruin it on accident," Greg ordered, and I just beamed before plopping down next to the Christmas tree we had decorated. Greg had been terribly embarrassed when Nick had come over a few days before, but I explained that it was my idea.

"You first," I said, tossing the medium-sized box at him and giggling with excitement. Christmas was the best holiday ever. Presents, happy people, usually no murders…

"Oh my God…" Greg breathed, the wrapping paper on the ground next to him. "How…how did you find this?"

"E-Bay may be convenient, but not cheap," I said simply. "And I'm going to assume you like it?"

"Like it?" he asked, laughing and looking up at me. "I love it."

"Yeah, well, I had to fight off a user named MalDawn17 for it," I laughed, shaking my head. "What girl wants an autographed Marilyn Manson album?"

"That's probably what they thought about you, Lex," he pointed out, and I rolled my eyes. "It's real?"

"Had it checked by an appraiser and everything," I promised. "One hundred and ten percent real."

"I just…can't even believe you got this…" he said, looking speechless. I smiled, knowing I had finally gotten a really good present.

"Yeah, and here," I said, tossing him two more boxes and standing up. "Coffee time!"

Greg just grinned and began opening his last two presents. As I poured us each a cup of coffee and hurried back into the living room, he held up one of the presents. "You are a genius present buyer." He held up two picture frames, containing the picture of A) Me kissing him on Thanksgiving, and B) The one of his entire family and I.

"I know," I sighed, looking at him smugly. "But in all seriousness, you're very hard to buy for."

"As are you," he said, handing me a small box. "But Morgan helped me out there."

I glanced up at him before carefully opening the small box. Inside, a silver necklace forming the letter "L" in diamonds. I felt my breath catch, and I looked up at Greg. "Oh my God."

"Sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted," he said, blushing. "You just don't flagrantly show how much you like some stuff."

"No, Greg, it's perfect," I said, nodding at the necklace. "You're the best."

"My line," he pointed out, and I wiped away a tear that was forming.

"You are seriously like the most perfect boyfriend ever," I said, crawling over to him and handing him the jewelry case. "Go ahead, put it on me. I want to wear it."

With slightly trembling hands, Greg carefully pulled the necklace out of its box and unhooked it. He draped it over my neck as gently as he could before re-hooking it and letting it drop around my upper chest. "I didn't break it, right?" he asked nervously, and I turned around.

"Nope," I said, before kissing his cheek. "It's a badass Christmas gift."

He chuckled and picked up on last one big box. "And we can't forget my mother's present to us," he laughed, and handed it me. "You unwrap it, I got more presents than you."

I rolled my eyes and tore the wrapping off, only to stare at a box. "You got a pocket knife?"

"Yeah, like I carry one of those," he said, shaking his head and going into the kitchen. "Steak knife work?"

"That's a little bit extreme, but yes," I sighed, and he handed it to me. I tore through the tape, facing the now open box. Inside, Mrs. Sanders had sent us nothing but baby clothes. I laughed, pulling out the pajamas. "Your old stuff?"

"Uh, no," he said, shaking his head again. "But I think my mom wants grandchildren now."

"That's the impression I get," I said, and leaned back on his chest. "Really though, gotta get married first."

"Fine," he said shortly, and I leaned my head all the way back so I could see him. "Seriously, it's fine. We'll get married and have lots and lots of grandbabies for Mom and Nana Olaf."

My eyes widened accidentally, and he smirked. "You seem like you've got it all figured out."

"Down to the minute I ask you," he whispered, and I blushed furiously. "I'm dead serious."

"Yeah, that's the problem," I said quietly, turning over and lying my head on his shoulder. "We're both accident prone, Greggo."

"So?" he asked, chuckling and lying on the carpet. "Just because we're accident prone doesn't mean we can't be together."

"No, but think about it. Shot, stabbed, explosion, and kidnapped all in two months. Nasty track record we've got going on," I laughed, and he shrugged. I felt him wrap his good arm around my waist slowly, holding me tightly. "Not to mention fainting."

"You are so perfect," he whispered tightly in my ear, and I felt the tips of my ears heat up. "I really mean it."

"I know you do," I whispered back, before flipping over and wrapping my own arms around him. Our faces were inches apart, both of us lying on Greg's carpet. "But I'd have to disagree."

He groaned. "Sure we have to wait till January 7th?" he whined, and I smirked.

"You've been back to work for 2 weeks, you need to take it easy there, Greggo." I said lightly, and dipped down to kiss him.

"Merry Christmas?" he said when we pulled apart.

"And a Happy New Year."

…

"Ooh, someone's got some pretty new jewelry," Morgan mused as I walked into the break room. I held my present for the secret Santa in my hands. "That's a really nice necklace."

"He told me you helped him," I informed her, throwing the present in with the others. "So don't try and play dumb."

She sighed in defeat. "Well, he was a hopeless case about what to get you," she said simply, shrugging. "What else was I supposed to let him do? Pick out lame books for you?"

"I'll have you know that the books I read are not lame," I said indignantly. "They are very nice, thank you very much."

"Emotional teenage rollercoaster stories are lame," she snorted, and I glared at her. "Even ones about crimes. And science."

I pursed my lips, before sitting down across from her. "Guess what Greg's mom got us?" I said, and raised my eyebrows.

She seemed deep in thought before looking up and grinning. "Clothes!"

"Yeah, but not for us," I told her, and she scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "For a baby."

She just gaped and me, and I nodded. "If that's not a hint, I don't know what is," she said, shaking her head and looking over to the pile of presents. "Who'd you get?"

"It's Secret Santa!" I whined, crossing my arms. "I will not tell you!"

"Fine, fine," she said, rolling her eyes at me. "Are you at least going to be at the New Years Party? You know, the one at Sara's house?"

"Oh yeah, that one," I said, nodding. "Greg's dragging me to it."

"You know, it's usually vice versa," she said, and I raised an eyebrow. "The girlfriend drags the boyfriend places."

I shrugged. "I wanted to spend New Years Eve at home relaxing, but he said that we should definitely go to Sara's party. Something about wanting to see her husband again."

"Grissom," Morgan told me, nodding. "He likes bugs."

"And you know this how?" I asked curiously, and she blushed.

"He was on the nightshift even when I was a kid. His office had a pug fetus in it too."

"Well that's interesting," I said uncomfortably. "Because I thought Hodges told me that there was a pig fetus in Nick and Greg's office-"

"There is," she interrupted, and stood up. She walked over to the counter, where a tray of chocolate cupcakes sat. She grabbed two, and held out one to me. I took it gratefully, hoping to shut my growling stomach up. "Hodges thought it 'belonged there.'"

"I'm starting to think he's more sentimental than he is a kiss-ass," I laughed, taking a bite of my cupcake. She gave me a strange look.

"No, Lexi, that's not it. As I've said before, Hodges has a major crush on you." She said simply, and I rolled my eyes. "You're a very slow eater, by the way."

"No, you just love chocolate too much," I said, pointing to her crumbs. "And messy."

"Whatever," she said, and looked around quickly. "Come on, who'd you get for Secret Santa?"

"It's not that big of deal," I said, and smirked. "But I'm not telling you anyways."

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Eat your cupcake and shut up," she said bitterly, and I took a bite just to prove that I would. "And you're the messy one, frosting face."

"Oh whatever," I said, narrowing my eyes. "I do not have frosting on my face."

She shrugged, smiling. "I got DB."

"For Secret Santa?" I asked in surprise, and she nodded with a wide grin. "Oh my God, what'd you get him?"

"A huge picture thing," she answered. "Filled it with as many pictures of the team that I could find."

"Sweet," I said, impressed. I would have been completely confused as to what I should get him.

"And a new coffee maker," she said, laughing. "His busted up last week."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that," I said, now remembering Nick telling me all about it. "Wasn't that a bit on the expensive side? Trying to be a brown-noser now, Morgan?"

She shook her head. "No, I just figured it would be something he needed rather than wanted."

"Finally done," Archie breathed, hurrying into the room and setting down his present on the table. "Oh, hey you guys."

"Who'd _you _have, Archie?" I asked, smirking. He sighed and sat down.

"Mandy," he answered, looking at everyone else's presents. "I see you guys got big presents."

"Well we both had big people to shop for," I said, shrugging. "What'd you get her? Hopefully nothing too nice, Henry and your girlfriend will kill you."

"Don't worry," he said with a laugh. "Just had to order tons and tons of forensic novels, most of which about fingerprints and stuff. The package just got here."

"And you did a half-assed wrapping job," I noted, and he nodded.

"I was in a hurry!" he defended, and my cell phone started beeping. And then Morgan's, and then Archie's.

"Present time," Morgan read, and grinned at us. As if on cue, everyone filed into the break room, some, like Hodges, complaining because they were being torn away from work.

"You know, Russell," Nick said, glancing around. "We never did this Secret Santa business before now."

"Oh good," Russell replied enthusiastically. "There's a first time for every new tradition."

I quickly stood up and moved away from the table, standing next to Greg. He smiled. "You have frosting on your face," he whispered to me, and I blushed. "Want me to lick it off?"

I blushed even more and hit him in his good arm. "No," I hissed, the heat from my cheeks unbearable. "Not the time and place for those comments, Greg."

"What comments?" Hodges said loudly, and I slowly turned to face him. Everyone was watching us intently.

"Nothing, Hodges," I said quietly, and faced DB, who was shaking a present. He was wearing a Santa hat, which if you ask me, fit his personality well. "Mind your own business."

"Someone's touchy," he breathed, and I refrained from turning and glaring at him.

"Okay," DB said happily, clapping his hands together. "Who goes first?"

Hodges raised his hand slowly. "I wanna open mine first, sir."

I rolled my eyes and pointedly looked at Greg, who smirked. "Still a kiss up, isn't he?"

"Of course," I replied, and watched closely as Hodges examined the presents, before pulling out the one with his name on it. He shook it, and I watched as Finn rolled her eyes as well. He pulled the paper off slowly, before turning and looking at us.

"What do you know? First season of the Three Stooges on DVD!" he said happily, and then narrowed his eyes. "No way…limited edition…who got this?"

There was a silence, and I leaned against Greg. "Fine, it was me," Sara finally spoke up, and I grinned at the happy Hodges. "Grissom's idea, okay?"

"Okay then, Hodges gives out his present next," DB announced, and Hodges reluctantly pulled a present out of the pile and handed it to Greg. I nearly fell over laughing, as well as everyone else.

"Why's that funny?" Greg asked, looking slightly hurt, and I just beamed.

"Everyone else…except you…" I managed to get out, and he unwrapped the present. He smiled to himself, and showed everyone a book about Las Vegas history.

"How'd you know, Hodges?" he asked curiously, and Hodges pointed to me. "Lexi?"

"Ah, yes," I said smugly. "Morgan got to help you with my present, I helped Hodges with yours."

He just gave me a strange look before reaching into the pile and pulling out a small present. He tossed it to Nick and stood back and watched. Nick just glanced up at Greg, and I smirked. He opened it slowly, and grinned up at us. "Season tickets to UNLV baseball?"

"Eh, it was her idea," he said, pointing to me. "But yeah."

"Hey, thanks man!" he said happily, and reached into the pile. He fished in it for minute before pulling out a heavy package, and handed it to Henry. "Mandy helped."

Henry opened it, and looked between Nick and Mandy. "Shuffleboard for Dummies?" he laughed, showing us the present. "Thanks, Nick."

"Hey, I hear your pretty good," Nick said offhandedly, and Henry rolled his eyes before pulling out a present and tossing it to Archie.

"No way, Star Trek?" he laughed, and held up a huge package of DVDs. "Even I didn't have that!"

"Good," Henry said. "I would have ask you for help on Ebay, but I figured that'd give it away."

Archie just grinned and handed Mandy his present. "Sorry about the wrapping," he apologized. "It literally just got here a minutes ago."

She shrugged. "Why even bother wrapping?" she asked, and opened it anyways. "Oh, nice one. Forensic and crime novels. You know me too well."

I thought I saw Henry look away, but I couldn't be sure. "Henry helped," Archie added, and Mandy beamed at Henry.

"Okay, Finn, I really hope I did okay," Mandy sighed, and handed Finn a small package. "Far from being an expert, but I had Morgan help me with that."

Finn unwrapped hers, and smirked. "A wine glass? Really?"

"There's a bottle of wine to go with it?" Mandy tried, but Finn just smiled anyways.

"Thank you, Mandy," she said sincerely, and Mandy smiled brightly. "I might just drink this tonight."

"Don't let Brass see that, okay?" Russell asked, and Finn nodded, putting everything back in the box.

"Okay, Lexi," Finn sighed, and I braced myself for whatever she had gotten me. She handed me a box, and I carefully opened it. I felt myself blush bright red and looked up at Greg, who was smirking. "We, uh, kind of searched through your entire iPod."

I stared at the countless Eminem albums and took a deep breath. "You guys do know that he was my favorite in high school, not now, right?"

She shrugged, and Greg grinned giddily at me. "Yeah, but I thought it'd bring back memories."

"Well, thanks." I said, grinning. "I am definitely gonna play these when I get home and overrule Manson for once."

"Hey, don't talk about him like that," Greg teased, and I rolled my eyes. "You know you like Tainted Love."

"Okay!" I said, changing the subject. "Morgan, here you go!"

I handed her a box and watched as she examined it. "You were my secret Santa?"

"Ho ho ho." I said, and she just shook her head before opening the box.

"Well that's a surprise," she laughed, and pulled out the box of chocolates. Then another box. And yet another. In total, 13 boxes of chocolate. "I think you went overboard, Lex."

"Chocolate for life!" I reasoned, and she just smiled.

"Here you go," she said, and tossed Russell his heavy present. "Sorry if it's a little big. Or over the top."

He pulled off the wrapping paper and smiled as he held the picture collage thing in his hand. "Well isn't that nice," he said with a chuckle. "And what's this?" he pulled out the coffee machine.

"Hey, thanks Morgan!" Greg said happily. "Now he'll stop stealing my Blue Hawaiian."

"Oh, that wasn't him, G," Nick admitted, and Greg turned to glare at him. "Sorry, break room coffee sucks!"

"But really, thank you Morgan," DB said, smiling and then picking up the last present. "Sara, here you go."

She took the present and examined it before opening. A small smile spread across her face as she held up the new forensic journals. "Thanks, DB."

"Had to ask around," he admitted. "Seems as though you do nothing besides work."

"Food time!" Morgan said cheerily, heading over to the cupcakes again. I grinned as my co-workers fought each other for all the food everyone had brought.

"You made that banana cream pie, right?" Greg double checked, and I nodded. "Oh sweet!"

I watched as he shoved some people out of the way for the pie, and even I pushed my way through.

No one would steal that pie from me.

….

"Greg, are you _sure _I'm dressed okay?" I hissed, looking at my nice dress and heels. "Did you text Sara and ask if it was formal or not?!"

Greg reentered our room, fiddling with his tie. "Calm down, Lex. And yes, I checked. Location's been moved to some fancy place…it's now officially the LVPD New Years party."

"Why isn't it Sara's?" I whined. I hated some of those cops.

"Well, it pretty much is," he sighed, still screwing his tie up. "Just a few changes, is all."

"God, come here," I mumbled, and pulled him over so I could fix his tie. It took me a minute to remember how, but I smiled proudly when I had figured it out. "You look nice."

"And you look a little taller," he teased. I raised an eyebrow. "What? You're average height now."

"Oh shut up," I whispered, pressing my lips to his. I felt him touch my hair and pulled away quickly. "Don't touch it."

He smirked and took my hand, leading me downstairs. "My cast totally ruins this entire thing."

"7 days, Greg," I reminded him, and he groaned. "Stop whining."

Getting in the Denali, Greg motioned for me to take the wheel. "I suck at driving with one hand," he explained. "Almost hit Mrs. Dabrue's car last week."

I laughed and got in the drivers seat, playing with my necklace as he got in. "I cannot even tell you how much I love this," I said, and gestured to the necklace. "It's just so pretty."

"I'm glad you like it," he said happily, and then looked down at his cast. "Why did you tell them I wanted neon pink as my color?"

I smirked, remembering looking over at his sleeping form and deciding that he could use a good joke. "Because it's a nice color," I said, turning onto the street as the GPS spoke to me. "And it's also bright and attention-attracting."

"You want me to attract attention of other girls or something?" he laughed, and I shrugged.

"They'll just think you're gay. Pink cast and all…" I trailed off, and he shot me a look. "What?"

"I'm not gay," he sighed, and I rolled my eyes.

"Clearly." I said shortly, and he turned on the radio. Eminem blared through the car, and I pretended to not notice the look he was giving me.

"I knew it!" he said, looking at me smugly. "I _knew _you still liked this stuff!"

"It brings back memories," I said, pulling into the parking lot. "It's not like I know the words."

"I bet you're lying," he said, grinning at me. "I think you sing to it every single night on the way to work and-"

"Greg." I interrupted, and he looked over at me. "You're with me on the way to work. Every single night."

"Oh," he said, and I turned the car off. "Time to go inside my darling!"

"Please, Greg, pet names are cute," I said, shutting the door. "But not darling."

"Yeah, I guess," he agreed, and took my hand. I intertwined our fingers and let him lead me into the huge building. "Man, this place is gonna be packed, you know?"

"Yeah," I answered distantly as Greg opened the door. The place was beautiful and large, definitely impressive. There was a lot of talking that rose above the music, and I looked at Greg, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"Come on," he said, tugging. "Sara and Grissom are over here."

"Hey, Greg!" Sara said happily as we approached her and older man. "And Lexi, of course."

"Hey guys," Greg said, and I felt Sara's partner, who I assumed was Grissom, studying me carefully. "Grissom, this is my girlfriend, Lexi."

I smiled and shook the older man's hand. "Gil Grissom," he introduced. "Are you about 5'2 in height?"

I felt embarrassed but answered anyways. "Um, yes. How'd you know?"

"The size of your hands," he said simply. "But you must be the new CSI Sara told me about."

I glanced at Sara, who seemed to be loving my slight discomfort. "Yeah," I replied, my eyes flickering to Greg. "Just started in November."

"Sara says you're very observant," he complimented, and I smiled slightly. "Now, I specialize in bugs and such. Your specialty is?"

I cleared my throat nervously. "I didn't exactly know we had to have a specialty. I just try to do my best at everything, actually."

He beamed. "I suppose you were right, Sara. A very good addition to the team."

"But she is good at shooting stuff," Greg interjected, and I felt the tips of my ears go red. "Can't take that one away from her."

The song changed quickly, now a slow song. I was going to ask Greg if was up to dancing, but saw Hodges walking over to where we were. So I pulled him away onto the dance floor without asking. "Sorry," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Had to get away from Hodges."

"No, it's fine," he promised. "I'm a crappy dancer with a broken arm, but whatever."

I laid my head on his chest, and he rested his chin on my head as we swayed slowly to the beat. "4 days without you, Greggo," I whispered, and felt his chest shake slightly in a laugh.

"Yeah, and when you come back, I'll be fixed," he said quietly, and I smiled at him. "Better keep your promise."

"Don't worry, Greg, I will," I sighed, feeling so content and perfect. "You know, I kind of like being this tall."

He frowned. "I don't. I like it when you're just yourself."

"Yeah, but being short can suck sometimes," I told him, inhaling his addictive scent.

"I love you, Lex."

"Love you too, Greg."

**A/N: YESSS! I AM SO HAPPY THIS CHAPTER IS DONE!  
Sorry, but this chapter was much needed to be done you guys! I hope you liked it(sorry about the Christmas thing when it's not winter yet:P) but make sure to drop me a review! Next chapter is the forensics conference! **

**And how about putting Grissom back in? I just wanted to toss him in there for a minute, sorry if you hate me! **

**OH MY GOSH THE NEWBIE TUMBLR IS UP! The newbie fanfic .tumblr. com(no spaces). GO THERE! I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT IT! **

**What about the gift exchange? Sorry if someone found that boring, I actually enjoyed it though. Gifts were realllly hard to think of so please feel free to tell me if I majorly screwed up. How could I have screwed up with the necklace though?! That was ultimate cuteness!**

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEWWWW!**

**Thanks people, you are amazing.(:**


	19. Reno

**A/N: Don't own CSI.**

**And LOL, thanks smuffly for the PM, but you're never gonna believe this. Yes, by me updating it shows that we DID win our game, but by forfeit. It was really stupid because we kicked their asses 25-10 the first game, and in the middle of the second game, some girl hit the ball upwards so high it hit the light on the low ceiling and made it slide out if its cage, letting it shatter on the ground. It was really funny at the moment, but I was pissed because that meant we had to let the, forfeit. **

**And the game prior, when the teams underneath our age division played, I got in trouble for supposedly "distracting players while they were serving with unsportsmanlike conduct". By that, they meant that my friends and I were whooping obnoxiously at them and singing songs about top ramen. Totally random and completely uncalled for, but I'm overly competitive, what did they expect?:)**

**Sorry for the personal life ramble. On with the chapter!:)**

"Hodges, shut the hell up so I can hear Greg!" I hissed. Morgan smirked and Hodges looked away. "Okay, you can finish now."

"Well I was just gonna tell you to be safe and don't do anything crazy in Reno," he laughed, and I wished so badly I could just see his smile. "Town's a dead beat anyways, but still. Don't get Hodges killed, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I grinned into the phone, glancing at Hodges. He and Morgan were sitting in silence, Morgan texting someone and Hodges…well, I wasn't sure what he was doing.

"Alright, love you," he said cheekily into the phone.

"Yeah, love you too," I said quietly, but Morgan and Hodges both heard me. "Bye, Greggo."

"Bye, Lex. Call me when you get to your motel." He ordered, and I hung up.

"I smell love," Hodges sang, and Morgan and I both laughed on cue. "What?"

"Yeah, like you know what love is," Morgan sneered, and he rolled his eyes. "You'll be single for a very, very long time my friend."

"Will not!" he defended, and crossed his arms. "I was once with a woman, you know. Wendy Simms, a fellow lab tech."

"Dad told me all about her, don't worry," Morgan said, I slouched down in the chair. "I also heard she was way out of your league."

"Now boarding flight 202 to Reno," the silky voice of a lady called, and I grabbed my bag, hurrying to the entrance before Morgan or Hodges could catch up with me. I tossed the lady my ticket, and when she accepted it, I hurried to the back of the plane. And of course, there were 3 open seats.

"Hey, thanks for saving seats," Hodges said when he found me. I sighed, still struggling to get my bag in the overhead compartment. "Here."

Hodges effortlessly put the bag above us, and I sat down next to the window. "Thanks, Hodges," I breathed, and he smiled. Morgan caught up to us, glaring at me. "What?"

"Got stuck behind noisy people," she snapped, but sat down next to me nonetheless. "How long of a flight is this, anyways?"

"3 hours," Hodges answered as he sat next to her. "And we could always play I Spy or-"

"Or we could all keep to ourselves?" I suggested, tucking my sweats into my Uggs. I never dressed that nice just to ride on a plane, and in this weather, sweats and a sweatshirt were nice.

"Yeah, Lexi's idea is a good one," Morgan agreed, and Hodges rolled his eyes at us. "Nothing against you, Hodges."

"Careful your pants don't catch on fire, Morgan," he remarked, and she looked over and smirked at me.

"Did he really just say that?" she whispered, and I shrugged. Had he just used such a childish term?

"Yes, I did." Hodges said proudly, crossing his arms. "And I like that term."

"That, Hodges," I said, looking over at him. "Is why no one likes you."

He sighed and we listened half-heartedly as the flight attendants ran over the instructions for the breathing masks, what to do if we randomly crashed into a lake, how to press a button. Easy stuff that everyone had heard half a dozen times. As soon as the plane started up and flew off into the air, and I gripped my ears. I hated when they popped, it always hurt like hell and I felt like I was partially def.

"You may now take out iPods and music players," a voice said over the intercom. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled it out of my pocket, quickly sticking the headphones in my ears. I turned on music from the Eminem CD Finn had gotten me, the lyrics to _The Real Slim Shady _ringing through my ears. I closed my eyes, everything becoming distant and quiet…

"_Cuz I'm Slim Shady, yes I'm the real Shady, all you other Slim Shady's are just imitating. So wont the real slim shady please stand up, please stand up, please stand up-"_

"_Shut up," I whined to my friend Stacy as she blared the music. We were driving to my high school graduation, the classic song of the year 2000 blaring in probably everyone's car. "This music is junk."_

"_It's hilarious!" she said, laughing at the white rapper. "Or in the parking lot, circling, screaming I don't give a fuck with his windows down and his system up," she paused, and looked over at me. "We should try that!"_

"_No!" I shouted, because Stacy was the type of person who would do that stuff. _

"_Fine," she grumbled, and pulled into our packed parking lot. "And we are definitely late."_

"_Of course," I sighed, and checked my dress. "Leave it to the valedictorian to be late for her own speech."_

"_Well, come on then," she said impatiently. "Hurry up!"_

My head snapped up, and Morgan looked at me curiously. "Did I fall asleep?" l laughed, and she nodded at me. "Whoops."

"Yeah, well, we're almost landing," she said, and I looked out my window.

"How the hell did I fall asleep for that long?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and blinking a few times.

"I don't know, maybe you weren't sleeping last night? One could only wonder why-"

"Hodges!" I snapped quietly, and he shut up. "That is very personal."

"I was only kidding, Lexi," he told me, smiling to himself. "Besides, everyone heard about the bed sheets."

"Oh my God," I whispered in disbelief, turning and looking out the window. "You really need to shut up."

"You're a very angry person," Hodges noted, and I glowered at him.

…

"I don't know why we even have to go to this," I grumbled as Morgan and I stood in the middle of UNR campus.

"I do," Hodges piped up as he looked around. I had forgotten he was even there. "To further our education on certain topics so we can succeed more."

"Such a kiss-ass, Hodges," I said under my breath, and leaned over to look at Morgan's and I's schedule. "Come on, the lecture starts in 5 minutes."

"You know, I really don't think it's necessary for us to go to this whole thing," she said, nodding to herself. "We really do find stuff out on our own."

"Oh come on," I laughed, pulling her into the huge classroom. I hadn't been in one of these since Stanford. "Damn."

And so we took our seats and listened the nutty professor ramble on and on about blood spatters. Which really was quite boring, since I knew all of it. But at least I paid attention, Morgan spent the entire time doodling on a piece of paper.

"Okay, thanks so much for being here!" the weird lady chirped before dismissing us.

"Morgan," I whispered, nudging her as I grabbed purse. "She dismissed us!"

"Oh," Morgan realized, jumping up and grabbing her stuff. "What time is it? I think we were really in here for like half an hour, Lexi."

"More like 4," I huffed, and she gawked at me. "Oh stop it. It's 12, so…food time!"

She rolled her eyes and took my arm as we walked across campus, heading for the Olive Garden across the street. And then she stopped dead in her tracks, which made me jerk backwards, bag in hand and all. "Oh. My. God."

"What?" I sighed, following her gaze. And then I saw him. "Oh."

"Go introduce me!" she demanded, turning and facing me. She looked crazed, like she was in a trance. "Please!"

"Morgan, I really don't think-" I began, glancing over to where Ryan and Grace were eating lunch at the student store.

"No! Come on, Lex! What could it hurt?" she growled, and I nodded.

"Fine. You can meet him. Besides, I'd look stuck up if I just pretended they weren't there," I said dejectedly, and she grinned. I was going to walk over there, but she found it quicker and easier to literally drag me over by my wrist.

"Hey!" I greeted once I shook Morgan off me.

"Hey Lexi!" Ryan said, carrying his typical Houghton grin. "What are doing here?"

"Same as you," I laughed, and felt Morgan's gaze bearing down on me. "This is my friend, Morgan. Morgan, this is Ryan, and his girlfriend, Grace."

Morgan shook their hands, though seemed less enthused to shake Grace's. "Your Conrad Ecklie's daughter!" Grace gasped, as if it was all clear to her now.

"Yeah," Morgan said, but she frowned slightly. "I am."

"You know what," Ryan said, setting down the French fry he was about to eat. "I think it's really dumb that we take two classes this entire thing and then fly back home."

"I agree," Morgan said quickly, and I shot her a warning glance. "I mean, I understand that it was the only way our Supervisors can get us to meet certain required fields, but it's not like nay of this is news to us."

"You know, I think she's right, Ryan," Grace agreed, and Morgan was clearly fighting an eye roll. "But Lexi, I swore I saw your friend for Arizona today. Emily?"

"Erm, no. Emerie," I corrected, and she nodded dismissively.

"Yeah, her," she said, and glanced over to where Morgan stood next to her. "Did you father come along, Morgan?"

"No," Morgan said, shaking her head. "Just Lexi and I. We're the newest on the team, so-"

"Hey guys!" a voice said from behind me, and I froze up. Worst timing _ever. _"Where are we going to lunch?"

"Don't know yet. Hodges, this is-"

"Oh, we met already," Hodges said, waving the thought away. "Ryan and Grace, from San Diego."

They nodded to each other, and I turned around to look at Hodges. "Have you checked in with Russell yet?"

"Uh, no," he answered quietly, and I shooed him away. He reluctantly walked away to a spot in the shade, and I smirked.

"Besides him, it's just Morgan and I," I explained. "I don't exactly know what he's got to learn here though, he thinks he knows everything as it is."

Ryan let out a laugh, and even Grace smiled a little. Woah. Can we get that on camera? "Grayson's here, Lex."

"Cool," I said shortly, and Grace rolled her eyes. Morgan just looked confused, and Ryan looked…irritated.

"Oh come on, don't you still like him?" she said, the meaning in her voice clear.

"I have a boyfriend," I clarified, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Who might that be?" she asked. I cleared my throat awkwardly.

"Greg Sanders," I answered, and she gaped at me. "That CSI-"

"That got stabbed, I remember," she said, waving it away. "But Ryan told me Gove was trying to bust you for dating him and you denied it."

I glanced at Ryan, who looked guilty. "We weren't dating at the time," I said simply, and she just smirked.

"Well I'll be damned," she chuckled, looking back up at me. "Speaking of the devil."

I turned around to see Grayson White walking towards me. The only guy I had dated before Tanner, the guy that had cheated on Casey with me, the guy who had-

"Lexi?" he asked with a laugh, surprise crossing his face.

"Grayson!" I greeted tightly, and he wrapped me up in a hug. "How are you?"

"Great, actually," he said, and raised his eyebrows at Ryan. "How come you didn't tell me she was here?"

"We just caught up with her, man," he explained. "She's with the LVPD."

"Yeah, I remember now," Grayson said, and his eyes wandered to Morgan. "Who's this?"

"This is Morgan Brody," I introduced, and she shook his hand politely. "Morgan, this is Grayson White, he's a CSI in San Diego."

"Nice to meet you," he greeted, and then he narrowed his eyes at me. "Your supervisor's DB Russell, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," I answered, and he just chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, and I was about to ask him what the meant, but Hodges interrupted our conversation yet again.

"Hey, guys," he said, and looked at Morgan and I. "Can we please eat now?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, we can." I smiled at Ryan and Grace. "Where are you guys staying?"

"Circus Circus," Ryan said, and I grinned.

"Us too," I replied, and waved as I walked away from the group. "Talk to you guys later!"

I shot Hodges a look, and he just shook his head. "Come on, I didn't screw up this time."

"Yeah, you did," Morgan snapped from next to me. "God, Lexi, he is sooo hot."

"Who?" I asked, grimacing.

"Ryan!" she whispered, and I shook my head. "You have to agree with me here!"

"I just don't see him in that way," I said shortly, and she rolled her eyes.

"Greg's not here, Lex. You can admit that Ryan Houghton is indeed smoking." She pointed out, and Hodges cleared his throat.

"Save the boy talk for later, please?" he asked in desperation, and I stuck my tongue out at him. "Oh, real mature."

"I'm a very classy person," I agreed, and Morgan snorted. "What?"

"Please, no one is as classy as Grace," she answered, and put her sunglasses on. I followed suit, the sun blinding me. "She's all about the image."

"I agree," I said, nodding. "Grace thinks she's pretty upper-class."

"Who are we talking about here?" Hodges asked, and I smiled.

"Grace Mora, remember?" I reminded him, and he nodded as we reached the doors to Olive Garden.

"Oh, her," he said, and pursed his lips. "We only have one more class this week, right?"

"Yeah," I said, and ran a hand through my hair. "I don't know why we flew down here just to take two 4 hour classes."

Morgan took her sunglasses off and smirked at me. "Cheer up, Lexi. When you get home, Greg will be cast-free."

I scoffed and hit her, and tried to ignore the snickering Hodges.

…

"Smith." I answered as I laid in my hotel room bed, simply relaxing and not doing anything. Which felt great.

"Lexi," Greg said happily. "Your flight leaves in a few hours, right?"

I checked my watch. "Yeah, we're heading down to the airport in about an hour. Why?"

"Got my cast removed," he said giddily. "What time are you supposed to be getting home?"

"Midnightish," I said casually, yawning to myself. "You gonna be there to pick me up?"

He sighed. "No. I got Russell to let me off early at 2 am, but I can't be any earlier."

"Why 2 am?" I laughed, and he paused.

"Well, if you must know, I _was _going to go and get you flowers," he mumbled, and I giggled to myself. "What?"

"Nothing, that's just a really sweet gesture," I said, and there was a persistent knocking on my door. "Hold on one second, baby."

I leaped out of my bed, and hurried over to the door. I didn't even look through the peephole, just opened it. And there was Grayson White. "Lexi," he greeted, and I felt a knot forming in my stomach as I clutched the cell phone in my hand. "Good to see you again."

"Hey, I can't really talk right now," I said awkwardly. "I'm on the phone with my boyfriend."

His face fell slightly, and he leaned against the door frame. "I can wait. I was supposed to come up and get you, special orders."

I sighed and put the phone back to my ear. "I gotta go. I'm gonna catch up with some friends from San Diego, I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, okay," he said so quietly that I could hardly hear him. "Bye, Lex."

He hung up before I could tell him I loved him, and I put the phone away in my pocket. 'What do you need me for, Grayson?"

"Oh, come on," he urged, taking my hand and pulling me forward with him. "We're all going out for dinner. You up to coming?"

"Depends where," I said, smirking. "I leave the hotel in an hour."

"There's this nice restaurant downstairs," he offered, and I pursed my lips. "Come on, Lex. Ryan and Grace will be there."

"Listen, I really think I should stay in my hotel room," I told him, looking out the windows at the dark Reno night. "And I know Ryan and Grace aren't down there, because Ryan just called an hour ago and said he and Grace were going to dinner, asked me if I wanted to come."

"What, you don't trust me or something?" he laughed, and I let my eyes fall to the ground. "Come on, Lexi. It was a mistake, you know that."

"You should go," I muttered, and looked him in the eye. "Seriously."

He glared at me. "Lexi, I've apologized countless times. We can be together again."

"No, we can't. Sorry." I went to shut the door, but he caught it with his hand.

"Lex, you know I'm ten times better than your boyfriend, right?" he asked, and I felt a rage inside me roaring. I stepped out of my room, clicking the door shut behind me.

"If you're not leaving, I am," I growled, and stormed down the hallway, him following me.

"Alexandra Rose," he snapped, and I stopped in my steps. "See, I got your attention."

I spun around on my heel, glaring at him. "Grayson, leave me alone. Don't call me by my full name, don't show up at my hotel door, and don't insult my boyfriend."

He smirked to himself, and I felt the stringing urge to reach out and slap him. "Lex, remember Casey? She called me up the other day, said you were with this boyfriend in San Gabriel."

"So what?" I sneered, and he raised his eyebrows. "That doesn't even matter."

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked curiously. "You were in California, and not even a text."

"Because I want you out of my life!" I shrieked, turning around and walking down the hall. I figured Grayson was probably following me, and took the stairs down to the main lobby, where I suspected Hodges was gambling.

I found he and Morgan in the bar, but they weren't anywhere near each other. Morgan was laughing with some guy, and Hodges was drinking alone, watching the super bowl. Which explained why it was packed in the bar. I hurried over to Morgan, and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from the guy she was talking to.

"Morgan, I really think we should get out of here," I whispered, and she rolled her eyes.

"You need a drink!" she said excitedly, and I shook my head. "Come on, Lex. Just one."

"No, Morgan," I said firmly, and grabbed her arm. "We need to get Hodges and _leave_."

"Why?" she whined, her face falling.

"Check your watch," I told her. She looked down at her watch, and her eyes widened. "Yeah. My point exactly. Pay your bill, I'll get Hodges."

I watched as she pulled a small amount of cash out of her wallet, and I poked Hodges. "Yes?" he asked irritably.

"Time to go," I said hurriedly, and he stood up, promptly pushing his chair in. "What are you even doing here, Hodges? You don't seem like a bar man."

"I'm not," he sighed. "But Morgan made me watch her and make sure she didn't order more than one drink."

"Well, come on," I ordered, and ushered him to move faster as I caught Morgan's arm. "We're running late, you know."

"Not if we hurry!" she exclaimed, jumping into an elevator as it shut in Hodges and I's faces.

"Well that was rude."

….

I stepped out of the car, waving to Ecklie and Morgan as they dropped me off in front of my house. The entire conference had been a nice break, in all seriousness. Besides Grayson and all of the San Diegoers, of course. I pulled the luggage behind me as I walked up the path to our front door. I knocked on the door, realizing it was about 3 AM. Greg should be home.

He yanked open the door, his face looking worried. "Where have you been?" he asked, pulling me inside quickly. "You were supposed to be home 3 hours ago."

"Yeah, I realize that," I sighed, kissing his cheek as I tossed my suitcase in a corner. "We missed our flight, had to catch the next one out. Sorry."

"I probably could have picked you up," he said, and I shrugged.

I marched up the stairs, feeling overheated, even though it was January. I opened my door, only to see everything perfectly neat. "Did the cleaning lady come?" I called down the stairs with a laugh.

Greg didn't answer, and drug through my drawers for pajamas. Sleep sounded nice, even though I'd gotten plenty of it in Reno and-

Someone grabbed me from behind, and I smiled to myself. "I really did miss you," Greg whispered in my ear, resting his chin on my head. "How was Reno?"

"Boring and fun at the same time," I laughed, and he spun me around, so we were facing each other. "Why hello there."

"Way to kill the moment, Lex," he said dryly, and I smirked. He closed the gap between us, and for the first time ever, I felt an urgency behind the kiss. I returned it, and he smiled into it. I pushed him down onto the bed gently, happy his cast was gone.

And I'm sure you can guess how the rest of my night went.

**A/N: AWWW! FINALLY! **

**Sorry if I'm not going explicit.:P **

**But I'm also sorry if someone hated me for the Reno trip. I was really glad to introduce you to GRAYSON!:D I hate him, don't you worry! He really won't appear again for quite a while, sorry. What did we think of running into Grace and Ryan? And I mentioned Emerie, but I'm saving her for later(mwahaha.) **

**I just wanted to let you know that I definitely thought about bringing Gove back this chapter, but that would screw with the plot. So instead, I replaced him with the thoroughly stupid Grayson. Who remembers him from one of Lexi's flashbacks? Brownies for you if you do!**

**I love you all, my wonderful reviewers!:) Buuuuut….**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Thanks homies.(;**


	20. The Beginning of the End

**A/N: Don't own CSI.**

**Also, thanks for the reviews last chapter but come on, I know we can get more. Plus, I hate to disappoint, but there is no guaranteed chapter this Friday. Tomorrow is day 1 of my's County's fair, and we take breeding and market pigs up there, Tuesday-Sunday. So I really hope to get you a chapter Friday, but don't be surprised if you don't get one.**

**HOWEVER, if I make it into the Parade of Champions with my market pig Thursday night, I will definitely post a chapter, as a gift from my happiness! So fingers crossed that they judge likes either my pig, my sisters, or the other 3 that are from the same litter!:) **

**Sorry for the rant, enjoy!:)**

"I'm sure you all received the all-hands on deck call," Russell announced as he walked into the break room. I scrunched my eyes, having just rolled out of bed and hour ago and was currently sipping on my first coffee of the day. "We've got 3 missing children, all from the same house and all kidnapped at the same time."

"Ages?" Finn asked, leaning back in her chair.

"3, 6, and 13." Russell answered, reading off of a sheet of paper. I stopped drinking my coffee for a moment and looked up at him.

"13…huge age jump," I noted, and he nodded in agreeance. "Genders? Pictures possibly? You've got to give us more than that."

"All girls. And sorry," he said. "The parents are searching the house now, but they can't remember the last time any of the kids had their photographs taken."

"That's odd," Nick said, pursing his lips and looking up at Russell. "At least, when I was a kid, Mom always hung our school photos on the wall."

"Which is what Archie's doing now," Russell said, and stuck his head out of the break room. "I'm having him call up the schools the kids went to, get the pictures on file."

"Until then?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Where do we start?"

"The house," he told me, and glanced at Greg. "Everyone starts at the house. The 3 year old was asleep downstairs, the 6 year old upstairs. And the 13 year old was babysitting her siblings."

"Great," Sara sighed, getting up. "Any other information?"

"No. But the sooner we get there, the sooner we might find some."

…

"You remember being 13?" Greg asked from where he was looking under a bed.

"Yes," I said, nodding. I pulled out a journal from the desk drawer. "Living hell."

He chuckled and looked back at me. "Why do you say that?"

"Austin Fox," I replied, and noticed the journal was locked. I opened the pencil box, looking through it. No key. "And I think Nick's right, about the oddness of the parents not owning pictures. I find it odd as well."

"Well, I don't know about these parents," Greg sighed, pulling something out. "But my mom always had my current picture somewhere in the house. And there were also a lot of things about me that they didn't know about."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, looking back and noticing he was looking through a huge clear box. "What do you got there?"

"Soda cans." He answered. "And cups that were probably used to pour the soda in. Why-"

"Have you looked through the parents pantry?" I asked suddenly, the idea striking me.

"No, but how-"

"I'll be back." I said, running out of the room and down the staircase, where Finn and Morgan were carefully opening the fridge door. "Perfect!"

"What?" Finn asked, peering inside the fridge.

"I need to look in here," I said, moving in and eyeing the contents. Fat free milk, apple juice, carrots. Not a single thing of junk food. "Parents are health freaks."

"Have you seen the mother?" Morgan asked me, and pointed out the window, where a mother was talking to Brass. "That's a gym body."

"Thanks." I said shortly, and hurried back up the stairs. Greg was pulling out more things from under the bed, and next to it, soda cans, popcorn bags, chocolate bar wrappers. "Mommy and Daddy are gym rats."

"Think she was sneaking food?" he asked, studying the cans and popcorn bags. "Because they wouldn't let her eat this stuff?"

"If she was, it wasn't from here," I said slowly, and picked up a chocolate bar wrapper. "This was on sale."

"Where at?" Greg asked, standing up and looking over my shoulder.

"7-Eleven, the one just down the street." I looked out the window, the sign just barely visible from this point of view. There was a beeping coming from my cell phone, and I pulled it out of my pocket. "Archie's got pictures."

The girls in the picture were all stick thin, even the oldest. "Well you know who that is, right?"

I leaned in closer to the picture, narrowing my eyes. "Yeah. That's Lanie, she was dating one of the boys that just blew up their dads house a few weeks ago."

"So she's in with the wrong crowd, presumably," Greg pointed out. "What if she's doing the same stuff these kids were? Maybe she was a weed smoker."

"And you know," I said, the thought hitting me. "Maybe she didn't go to 7-Eleven for candy and soda. Maybe she bought that so her parents wouldn't wonder what she was doing. Maybe it wasn't a rebellion thing."

"I have names!" Russell announced, entering the room where we were looking at the soda and popcorn. "13 year old Lanie Monroe, 6 year old Samantha Monroe, and 3 year old Eliza Monroe."

"You remember her?" I asked, showing him the phone picture of Lanie. "She was dating the punk a few weeks back?"

"Yeah," Russell said, and raised his eyebrows at the mess on the floor. "You guys made a mess."

"Greg did, not me," I said, smirking at Greg before walking out the door. "I'm going to 7-Eleven!"

"Bring me back a slurpee!" Greg called out, and I grinned. Passing through the kitchen and onto the front door, I could see Morgan and Finn whispering hurriedly from where they were standing in front of the counter. Not worrying myself with it, I continued on out the front door.

"Anything?" Brass asked me, and I shrugged.

"We have a halfway-theory, does that count?" I asked, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm going to 7-Eleven. Bye."

And with that, I set off walking down the long driveway of the Monroe home.

…

"I need security footage," I said simply when I walked into the 7-Eleven. "Lexi Smith, Las Vegas Crime Lab." I flashed him my ID and he raised his eyebrows at me. Some guy in his 20s.

"For what?" he asked, crossing his arms.

I sighed and pulled out my phone so I could show him the picture of Lanie. "You see this girl in here a lot?"

He laughed. "Only every single day," he said, and motioned for me to come behind the counter. I cautiously went back there, and he showed me the video screens. "Take your pick at which one you need, and give a time period."

"These two," I said, pointing at an outside view and an inside one. "And I need them for the past week."

"Give me a sec," he sighed, and bent down to deal with the tapes. "So, uh, what's up with Lanie?"

I looked down at him. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "She just came in a lot, I got to know her really well."

"A 13 year old?" I asked, and he looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

"Not like that, lady. She was always coming in and complaining about her parents and someone named Patrick. Seemed like she had a lot of problems, I just listened to them is all." He explained, and I bit the inside of my cheek.

"She ever spend much time outside the store?" I asked casually, and he nodded.

"Definitely. Every Friday she came in, bought a Mountain Dew and a Hersheys bar. Then she went outside and talked to some dude. And after that, she left," he said quietly, and handed me the tapes. "Here you go."

"Hey, thanks," I said, and smiled at him. "You've been a real help."

"Enough help to take you to dinner?" he asked, and I felt myself blush.

"Uh, no," I said tightly, and smiled up at him. "I have a boyfriend. But really, thanks for this video footage."

"She's gone, isn't she?" he sighed, and I felt my breath catch. "Lanie. I bet she's gone."

"Yeah, she is actually," I said dryly, looking into the young kids eyes. "Know anyone who'd want to take her?"

"Wouldn't be surprised if that Patrick did. He pushed her around a lot, had her running errands." He stopped and pondered his words. "At 13. And she just took it. I think she did because he was a senior in high school."

"Big age difference," I pointed out, and he nodded in agreement. "Thanks, kid. You've been a lot of help. I'll call you if I need anything else."

"Hey," he called as I was walking to the door. "Just let me know…let me know when you find Lanie, please."

"I will," I promised, and walked out of the store, tapes in hand. The clouds were making it humid for a January day in Vegas, and I started off walking down the sidewalk. January 23rd, why was today's date so familiar?

I continued to rack my brain at the familiarity, before I finally realized it was Emerie's birthday. I pulled out my phone quickly, dialing her phone number. It rang several times before she finally picked up. "Emerie Eller speaking."

"This is my girl in Phoenix?" I asked, trying my hardest not to laugh.

"Lex?" she asked happily, and I smiled into the phone. "Lexi Smith?"

"Ah, yes," I said, feeling satisfied. "Tis me!"

"What the hell are you calling me for?" she asked. "Aren't you in Vegas now?"

"Yep," I said, and I paused shortly. "I am. And it's your birthday."

"Don't remind me," she groaned, and I laughed at one of my best friends anger towards age. "30 this year."

"No way," I said, surprised. "You, 30?"

"Yep," she said sadly, and gasped. "You're 29 next month!"

"Is this your sick and twisted way of reminding me how old I am?" I questioned, and she just laughed. "Is it?"

"Maybe," she said, and I could hear her grin through the phone. "Anyways, I heard you were at the forensic conference in Reno."

"Yeah, I didn't see you though," I said sadly. "But you should come to Vegas sometime soon."

"Maybe. Hey, Lex, I really gotta go. But I'll call you soon, we need to catch up." She promised, and I sighed.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you soon, Em," I said, and hung up.

Approaching the scene, I could see Morgan and Finn talking to Brass about something. I carefully dropped the tapes in an evidence bag, trying my hardest to hear what they were saying.

"…drug dealer…"

"…only 13…"

"…maybe the dad…"

"Any developments?" I asked, trying to sound positive as I approached the two. I handed the evidence bag to Brass, and he raised an eyebrows. "Security footage from the 7-Eleven she was always at. Clerk said she was always complaining about her parents and some guy named Patrick, as well as meeting some dude outside."

"Maybe that's the dealer!" Finn said, looking at Morgan and smirking. "Told you the dad wasn't involved in it."

"You just wanted that to be true because you think he's cute," Morgan mumbled, and Finn looked away. "He's married, remember?"

"Never stopped you," I said quietly as I walked by Morgan and into the house. She turned and gave me a weird look before I gave her thumbs up.

I abruptly ran into something, and turned around to look at Dave. "Sorry," he laughed, and I scrunched my eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, glancing back at Brass.

"Dead body in the shed," he said simply, and I sighed. Of course, when I was gone, someone would discover something interesting. I nodded and hurried into the house again, only to see Greg covering his face, looking away from where Nick and Sara were rummaging through the shed just outside the house.

"What'd I miss?" I asked, and then the stench hit me. "Oh God."

"Yeah," Greg coughed out, looking away. "I, um, have smelt a lot of things…but this a whole new level of sickening…"

"Agreed," I said, my breath feeling shortened. "Is there a chemical in that thing?"

"Yeah," he wheezed, and led me away from the room. "That's why Nick and Sara are wearing masks. And can't you just smell all of that through the sliding glass door?"

"How'd the family hide that smell?" I asked, my breathing recovering. "And how did we not sniff it out before."

"Air tight shed," Greg explained, and stopped at the youngest daughters door. "And a Febreeze."

"Tell me your kidding," I said dryly, and he laughed. "So, what'd you find in here?"

"Kidnapper didn't take her out of the window," he said easily, and pointed to the still shut window. "Screwed shut."

"Apparently mommy and daddy prevented that much," I breathed, and took a close look at the bed. "She was grabbed out."

"Yeah," Greg said in agreeance, and pointed to her drawers. "Open and missing clothes."

"What the hell…" I breathed, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "What about the six year old? Show me her room."

He nodded and led me away from the room, and into a different one. A bigger one, neater for sure. I studied it carefully and eyed the bed. "Neat as a pin, huh?" he said quietly and walked into the room. "The whole thing is."

"So she wasn't taken from here," I said, and he nodded. "Then where was she taken from?"

"Maybe she wasn't taken," he suggested, and leaned against the wall. "I've been thinking, and what if we're looking at this whole thing wrong? What if it wasn't a kidnapping, but some kind of weird set up."

"The girl was a drug dealer, I think," I said, and pursed my lips. "That's what I've been told so far, don't hold me on that though. So it would have had to been set up by the parents."

"Neighbors said they heard screaming and saw a girl being carried to a car…maybe the screaming was all an act?" he guessed, and I contemplated this. "The 3 year old was carried? And the 6 year old?"

"Was compliant." I said, and gestured to her room. "No signs of struggle and the whole thing happened around 11 pm, so they would have all be in bed."

"And the parents were out to dinner," he filled in, and I nodded. "I bet the sister set it up, not the parents. I mean, after all, they seemed a little more than shaken."

"And I'll bet you're right," I said happily, and looked around the room. "Now how do we figure out where the hell they went?"

….

"You think you can run it?" I asked, carefully sitting in the wheely chair next to Archie. "Modern iPhone has a GPS incase it's been stolen…"

"I can run it," he assured me, then paused. "But I can't guarantee she'll be _with _the phone."

"Of course," I said, nodding and watching the screen as Archie typed in a phone number. Looking around the room, I could see so many high tech things that I couldn't wrap my head around.

"Got a hit," he sighed, and pointed to the screen. "Looks like you're heading to the desert."

"Where about in the desert?" I said, narrowing my eyes at the screen. "Middle of the desert or-"

"Very close to the city," he said, and picked up his cell phone. "Right now, that dot is the phone. It's stationary. If it moves-"

"You'll call me?"

"Yeah."

"Did you look over my security tapes, before I waste time and run out to the desert?" I sighed, and he pulled them out of a drawer.

"Nothing. I mean, she was clearly dealing drugs with some guy, but zilch the night they disappeared. Just the usual conversation and a swap," he said, and handed me the tapes. "Might wanna get those back to the store, there's plenty of tape time left."

"Thanks, Archie," I said, and smiled and hurried out of the AV lab. "Russell!"

"Hmm?" he asked, glancing up from some papers.

"Got a hit on the girls cell phone," I said proudly, and showed him my phone, which was currently holding mapquest directions. "Gather up the team?"

…

"_Chigga chigga slim shady, I'm sick of him, look at him, walkin around, grabbing his you know what, flippin the you know who-_"

My phone interrupted my singing the blaring music. Irritated, I stuck it to my ear. "Tell me we did not just pass you and you were rapping."

I smirked. "I'm a damn good rapper, for your information." Greg laughed into the phone, and I looked ahead of me. Sure enough, Nick's Denali had passed me.

"Well we were also going to call you and let you know that Archie just texted me and said the phone's moving," he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Archie called you instead of me, huh?" I scoffed, and there was silence.

"Anyways, same location, we're just about 2 miles to the west." Greg said, changing the subject.

"Yeah, got it," I sighed, and ended the phone call. I pulled into the plain desert mapquest had led me to, Morgan and Finn in the car behind me.

Greg and Nick's Denali came to a halt, and I followed suit. Grabbing my gun, I realized we were parked in front of a fairly decent house. I held it down by my side, and waited for the uniforms as I stepped out of the car. Brass and the cops knocked on the door, and receiving no response, kicked it open. There were screams and shouts from inside, and I hurried over with Greg and Nick.

Lying on the floor, a man was being handcuffed. "Where are the girls?" Brass yelled, and the man didn't answer. I felt my blood run cold. We were not going to bust our asses to find them and have them be dead or something.

I hurried into the back room, still clutching my gun. There was a muffled scream from behind a door, and I opened it quickly, pointing my gun and scanning my room. Struggling with a window, was the teenage girl. She turned and faced me, her face screaming worried. "Oh thank God," she cried, and ran out the door. But the room wasn't quite yet. From behind a walk in closet, someone was banging out the door. I opened the closet door slowly, and came face to face with a 6 year old girl. She ran out and clutched my leg, tears streaming down her face. Behind her, a 3 year old rushed out and wrapped her arms around my neck as I bent down.

"Shh," I said, and hugged the two girls. "You're okay now, sweetie. You're all fine, everything's gonna be great, don't you worry."

"Bad man," the youngest sobbed, and I felt part of my heart crack. "He lock sissy in here too!"

"Yeah, it's alright," I mumbled, and closed my eyes. I picked up the youngest and held her as she squeezed my neck. "Come on, Samantha."

The girl followed me obediently, and I led them out to the front room where they were cuffing their older sister. "You got the youngest." Brass sighed, and I nodded.

"Hey, kiddo, I need you to go with Captain Brass," I whispered to Eliza as she snuggled her head into my neck. "He's gonna get you something to eat and drink."

"I wanna stay with you," she sniffled, and I took a deep breath.

"No," I said, my voice wavering as I fought tears profusely. "You need to go with him. I'm gonna visit you guys though, okay?"

"Okay," Samantha said from next to me, and pulled on her sisters ankle. "Come on, Eliza. We should do what she says."

I set the youngest down and Samantha snatched up her hand. "Thank you so much, Samantha, you've done really well."

Samantha smiled up at me, and followed Brass out the door. The weight on my chest felt heavier, and I hurried to walk out of the house. Greg enveloped me in a tight hug, and I couldn't fight it anymore as I let the tears flow freely, my shoulders shaking.

"Hey, you're alright, Lex," he whispered, stroking my hair, and walking me away from the whole thing. "It's all okay now, the girls are okay."

"How can this happen?" I sobbed, and he leaned against the back of the Denali. Away from the talking and the kids crying. "Why would someone do this?"

"I don't really know," he said quietly, and I closed my eyes. Taking a ragged breath, and I wiped away my smeared makeup. "You okay?"

"No," I said hoarsely. "I'm not. But I'm supposed to keep composure."

"Lex, I think-"

"I'm fine." I said firmly, and leaned against the car next to him. "Really. I should stop this crying thing, and I've been trying, but the fact that someone can shove two little kids in a closet…" I swallowed. "Sick bastards."

"And the best part?" Greg said, looking over and grabbing my hand. "They're all going to prison. Mom, Dad, and the guy. Lanie's looking at some fun time in juvenile detention too."

"What?" I said, looking back at the house. "What did the mom and dad do? I'm confused here, Greg."

"Drug's all over the house," he said happily. "Not to mention the dead body. Belonged to Grandpa Monroe."

"Is everyone in this world so freaking twisted?" I yelled, to no one in particular. "Sick little-"

"Hey," Greg interrupted, leaning over and kissing my cheek. "It's all gonna be completely fine, Lexi. The girls are gonna go live with their grandparents," he stopped and smirked. "Who are filthy rich."

"I just…" I couldn't finish, and leaned against Greg, lying my head on his shoulder. "I'm just happy that this entire freaking case is over. Done and _finished_. No more dumbass parents, no more hoodrat daughters, nothing. And I don't really care if the scene isn't over, this case is."

"I agree," he said, and squeezed my hand. "And we're probably gonna get our asses chewed for hanging around back here."

"Funny how I just don't give a rats ass," I sighed, and he chuckled. I closed my eyes and felt him pull me in for a hug. "I love you Greg."

"Love you too, Lex."

And before I could say anything else, the glass of the Denali behind us shattered, and a bullet whistled by my head.

**A/N: Yeah, you probably hate me. Eh, whatever.**

**Lol, but what did we think?! I'm sorry if I brought Lanie back again(even though we don't know her well at all I still like to use my off characters until I ship them away or kill them off.)**

**And the whole chapter was, quite frankly, very very fun to write. I've been excruciatingly busy with school and County Fair season(my family always takes market hogs and breeder hogs up there- very fun, but 5 days of life consuming heat in the barns.)**

**Anyways, I'm sorry if this chapter was a bit on the shorter side. I really try to have at least 4,000 words because I know some people have 400 word chapters and it drives me nuts. 4,000 is my goal, usually I'm upper 3,000's though(I like to space out my chapters, if no one's noticed lol.) **

**Also apologizing for excessive use of my dots this chapter(scene changes). DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO CREATE LINES!? A lot of authors use them and I want to know how! So please let me know if you have used them before, it would make my life easier and the story easier to read as well.**

**Looking forward to next chapter, hope to see everyone there!:)**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Hey, thanks guys.(:**


	21. Answers

**A/N: I don't think people realize how much I hate disclaimers. But I don't own CSI. Shocker. **

**Oh and I didn't get into the Parade of Champions, but my sister did win Grand Champion Registered Breeder and we both won the Outstanding Swine Breeding Exhibitors Award(2 feet tall trophy- thank you very much!) And I also won Reserve Grand Champion Unregistered Breeder. **

**Sorry for rambling. This chapter may contain a few spelling or grammar errors because I didn't get a chance to edit- my computer's dying.**

Greg pulled me down, and we both covered our heads. The shooting that came from no specific direction continued, and I pulled out my gun again, holding it readily. There was a strangled yelp, and I took a deep breath. Where the shooting could be coming from was beyond me, and I felt myself think of the surrounding area. But there was nothing to hide behind besides bushes.

The shooting stopped, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. And then the shooting continued once again. There were screams and sounds of bullets stopping as they hit people. I felt sick to my stomach knowing there was nothing we could do, and I squeezed Greg's wrist. He just glanced over at me, and I peered up over the back window of the Denali. I could see Brass and the rest of the officers taking cover behind their vehicles, all of them trying to keep the handcuffed Lanie and her accomplice safe, as well as Samantha and Eliza.

And then from my left, men popped out from behind these giant bushes, openly firing at us. I clicked the safety off and leaned around the corner of the Denali, looking for someone to shoot at. Greg pulled me back down, clamping a hand over my mouth. "This is not the time to be trigger happy," he hissed, and I rolled my eyes. "Lexi, I'm dead serious. You stay behind here."

And with that, he quietly jogged down the side of the Denali, gun still ready. I felt bad, knowing how much he hated them. There was another series of shots, and Greg immediately hit the ground and took cover behind a tire. The shooting continued, and I watched as he held his head. "Are you going to do anything?" I whispered loudly to him, and he just gave me this blank expression. "No?"

He didn't answer, and I leaned out from the side of the Denali and fired 6 six shots at one of the guys. One of them hit, and I watched as he staggered back, clutching the side of his throat. "Lexi!" Greg snapped, and I rolled back around the side of the car, looking at him expectantly. "You can't do that! That's the cops job!"

"Right now, I think they need as much help as they can get," I growled, and peaked back out, shooting some more. "Damn it!"

"What?" Greg asked anxiously, and I rolled onto his side of the car, taking cover behind the other tire. "What's going on?"

"I'm missing," I breathed in response, and rolled underneath the car. One of the guys was lying on his stomach, and I fired out 4 shots, successfully hitting him in the head. I smirked and rolled back. "Sucker."

"Lexi!" Greg yelled loudly, and I heard a shot whiz past my ear. I quickly stood up, standing behind the Denali now. "Son of a bitch, Lex! Stay put!"

"Like you're gonna be so much help to the situation!" I yelled back, my voice hardly audible over all the continual shooting. "How the hell does anyone still have ammunition left? I only have 2 shots!"

Greg ignored my question, and I watched as he gulped. For the first time, fear was now taking over him. "Lex," he whispered, and I sprinted across the side of the car, leaning against his chest when I reached him. "You're right, we're gonna run out and-"

"Greg, give me your gun," I said quietly, the shooting dying down for the third time.

"What?" he said, and I motioned for him to hand it to me. "No way, what if I get into trouble?"

"Here," I said, and handed him my gun. "You can use the smaller one."

"Shut up," he sighed, and handed me his gun. "I'm just glad it's not a hundred degrees outside right now."

"Only time I like the winter," I chuckled grimly, and looked up at him. "Where's everyone else? Russell, Finn, Morgan? And Nick? What about Sara?"

"I don't know," he said quietly, and I looked at my Denali behind us. "They're probably hiding as well."

"Greg," I whispered, and got so close to his face that all he could focus on were my eyes. "We have to get you over there. You need to be with all of them."

"And what are you gonna do that's so much more special than everyone else?" he demanded, and I laid my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath. "We shouldn't try this shit, we're not trained cops, Lex."

"Yeah, I agree," I admitted, and took his hand. "But the cops are gonna be screwed any minute now. This was all a set up."

"What do they want?" he groaned, and shooting started up once again. I froze, leaning into him and praying no one knew we were hiding and decided to shoot at us. "Lex."

"Shut up for a minute," I muttered, and pulled him down behind the tire with me. I peeked around the corner once again, this time counting 11 people, one of them with a machine gun. I kissed Greg firmly, his reaction slowed. "I'm going to pull a stupid stunt. You stay here."

"I'm not going to just sit and do nothing!" he yelled, and I closed my eyes. "Lexi, I'm the boyfriend. I'm supposed to protect _you, _not the other way around."

"Unfortunately, Greggo, that just isn't on the agenda today," I said with a wry smile, and took off running from the Denali. I reached the other one, diving into the sand and dirt. I cursed under my breath as I wiped away the blood I'd conjured on my cheek.

"Lexi!" a voice whispered, and I looked over. Morgan and Russell were sitting behind their Denali, and I crawled over quickly, gun still in hand. "What the hell are you doing? You need to be with Greg and-"

"Please tell me someone radioed for backup," I panted, and they just blinked. "Mine's in my car."

"Yeah, Nick did," Morgan said quietly, and motioned for me to sit next to her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I promised, and looked at the last Denali behind this one. "Has anyone else besides me been shooting here?"

"I did, at first," Morgan said uneasily, and glared over at Russell. "He says I can't anymore though."

"We're criminalists, not cops," Russell defended, and I just gaped at him. "What?"

"The LVPD needs help right now," I snapped, and showed him Greg's gun. "Use these."

"Sounds good to me," Morgan said with a shrug, and I looked around the corner of the car.

"Son of a bitch," I groaned, feeling ready to give up all hope. "They've got machine guns."

"And I think it's time we stopped fighting this battle," Russell said with a sigh. "We're all safe behind these cars, let's just stay here."

I looked over, only to see Greg with his head in his hands, like he was crying. "Greg hates using his gun," I said quietly, and Russell raised his eyebrows. "I don't mind it, really. I could have been a cop too, if I wasn't such a nerd."

Morgan laughed in grim agreement. "Wonder when backup will get here."

I went to answer, when shots from the other side of us fired off. I gasped and threw myself underneath the car, now really giving up all hope. We were trapped, cornered. I looked over at Greg, who was doing the same thing as us, the gun in his hands shaking. My heart broke a little with every bullet I heard fired. And suddenly, it ceased.

"Give us Ryan Lopez and Lanie Monroe." A deep voice called out. "Or we'll continue until you're all dead."

I choked on air, glancing over at Russell and Morgan next to me. Not today, not today would I lose the bastard who did this to Eliza and Samantha.

And as Brass made the decision to let Ryan and Lanie out, the firing suddenly picked up, and Brass fell over.

I would have screamed, I would have shot. I would have done anything to help, but something pulled me out from underneath the car.

And everything around me went black as night.

….

I opened my eyes, only to realize I was lying on someone. I jumped up, but whoever I was lying on pulled me back down. "Shh, you're okay, Lexi." Finn's voice said, and I blinked. We were still out here, in the early morning hours of the desert. I looked around, realizing we were inside someone's Denali. "What the hell happened?"

"Hodges dragged you out," Nick said simply, and I looked over to Hodges, who was sitting there worriedly.

"What? When did you get here?" I asked, somewhat grateful and otherwise upset that Hodges had been the one to pull me away from the Denali.

"I've been here," he sighed, and looked out the empty hole where a window used to be. "It's never going to end."

"What's he talking about?" I asked quietly to Nick, and he just shook his head while rubbing his temples.

"It's just gotten worse. Brass got hit in the back of the shoulder, Lanie and Ryan have both been shot dead-"

"Like they didn't deserve it," I mumbled, but Nick ignored me.

"And we have absolutely no clue of what's going on." He finished, and a fear welled up inside me.

"Where's Greg?" I snapped, trying to keep my voice down.

"Greg's with his car, Lex," Morgan reassured me from where she was crouched down on the floor of the passengers seat.

"No," I said defiantly. "No more Greg getting hurt, no more bad stuff happening to us. I am so _done _with it."

"Then just sit here, Lexi," Russell said from where he was lying down in the back part of the Denali, hands resting behind his head. "That's the only thing we can do."

"I'm not letting him get hurt," I growled, and looked at Nick. "So unless you guys want me shooting at people, I suggest you let me out of this car."

"Sanders will be fine," Hodges piped up, and I looked over at him. "Really. He's got a gun-"

"With 2 shots left in it!" I cried, and Hodges just stared blankly at me. "All because I said we should switch guns and now we're screwed!"

"Look, Lexi," Hodges said loudly, attracting my attention. "Under any other circumstances, I would be the last person to say this, but...Sanders isn't dumb, he's being very careful, I promise you that much. Okay?"

"Okay," I said softly, and laid back in my seat, running my fingers across the guns trigger. "But how are we getting out of here?"

"We're going to hope that they let us go," Russell said, sounding so easy going and carefree. "That's all we can do."

"There has to be another way, guys," I said quietly, and looked out of the hole(which was formerly a window but had been shattered) and eyed the gunmen sitting in the grass. "This was all a huge set up. Where's back up?"

"They stopped them all at the highway," Morgan answered, and I ran a hand through my hair. "Every single person."

"Dammit!" I shouted out, and hit the seat. "I just want to be with Greg, he's probably scared out of his mind right now."

"He's not 5, Lexi," Nick muttered, and I glared over at him. "He knows how to keep calm."

"It's all my fault," I said quietly, and reached for the door handle. Hodges jumped over pulling my arm away with a strength I didn't know he had.

"I know you're pissed," he said, gripping my arm. "But you are not going to do something stupid all so you can get shot while trying to be with Sanders. Then you'll really never be with him again."

His words sunk in, and I felt completely helpless. Like there was nothing I could do. I rummaged through Morgan's purse on the ground, searching for earphones.

When I found them, I looked up at Morgan. "Hand me my cell phone, in the glovebox."

She sighed and pulled it out, tossing it to me. I plugged in the ear phones, pressing play and letting music fill my ears. Not Marilyn Manson, but Taylor Swift. I was so cliché.

_It's alright, just wait and see _

_Your strong of lights is still bright to me_

_Oh, who you are is not where you've been_

_You're still an innocent, you're still an innocent._

_Did some things you can't speak of_

_But at night you live it all again_

_You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now_

_If only you had seen what you know now then-_

A loud bang interrupted my music, and yanked the earphones out of my ears and felt someone tackle me to the floor of the car. Shots rang through the air and I clenched my teeth. I unlocked the safety and jumped up, shooting at the guy in the grass. I hit him right between the eyes before I was pulled back down by Hodges.

"Are you insane?" he hissed, and I shrugged. "They're trying to _kill _us!"

"What's your point?" I snapped. "I want to be with Greg and all you can say is that they're going to-"

The next sound was the loudest of them all, and I could see a cop car go flying through the air. Shots rang out once more, and all of a sudden, there was complete and utter silence.

"Don't move," Hodges muttered, and he gentky took the gun from my hands and set it one ground next to him. Looking up carefully, he examined the area before sighing with relief. "They're all dead."

"What?" Nick exclaimed, jumping up and looking around as well. I followed suit, only to see a dead body outside the car. I gulped and looked up, seeing a helicopter flying above us. Looks like backup had come after all.

I leaped out of the car, not waiting for anyone else, and I ran for Greg's Denali. Reaching it, I flung the drivers side door open, jumping into the car and looking for Greg. I panicked upon not seeing him, and crawled into the very far back part, by our shattered back window. And there he was, closing his eyes and gripping the gun so hard his knuckles had turned white. "Greg."

My voice prompted him to open his eyes, and I jumped into the backseat and kissed him as soon as I could. It really felt like one of those cheesy movie kisses, but I had felt like I was going to lose him. Like I was honestly going to have him slip away from me forever.

"Lexi," he breathed, pulling away and sitting up. I engulfed him in a hug, gripping his neck as tight as I could. "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me," I muttered, and examined his face. "If you got hurt your mother would come after me."

He chuckled and kissed my cheek. "I'm just really glad you're safe now."

"Greg, you sure you're alright?" I sighed, and helped him up so we could get out of there. "I'm not really sure what the hell these guys were doing but they hurt and killed a lot of people."

"I'm fine, Lexi," he laughed, and stretched as he got out of the car. "Is everyone else alright? Tell me yes, I can't deal with a dead person right now."

"Brass is shot," I breathed, and leaned in against him. "But he'll be okay, I hope. We should really get home, you need to rest and-"

"You hurt your cheek," he sighed, and wiped away the blood in a hurry. "Now what were you saying?"

I paused, slightly surprised that he just wiped away my blood no problem. "You're going home right now."

"But-"

"Nope." I said firmly, and led him around to the passengers seat. "I am driving you home and returning to work. No questions, Greg."

And with that, I drove him home.

…

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm fine," Greg said, the tiredness coming out of his voice. I rolled my eyes and undid his shirt for him, throwing it in the laundry.

"Sleep, okay?" I begged, helping him into the bed. He looked so exhausted, like he was emotionally drained. "I've gotta go back to the scene, see what the hell happened."

"No," he groaned, and pulled me back into bed. "Just stay, Lex."

I hesitated at the sight of him, but shook my head. "Greg, I really have to go back. I wanna find out what happened. It's not everyday people start shooting at you."

"I know it was a really weird situation," he sighed, and leaned over to kiss my cheek softly. "But we can always find out after we sleep."

"No," I said dryly, and jumped out of the bed before he could grab me. "I'll be back afterwards. I'll come and see you then."

"Fine," he grumbled, and rolled over in bed. I smirked at his immaturity and proceeded out the door. I turned and looked back one time before deciding I should just go on.

And figure out what had just happened.

….

"You're back," Russell said as I walked onto the scene, bags forming under my eyes. I was working on 12 straight hours without sleep now.

"Yeah," I grumbled, and looked at the scene in front of me. A blown up cop car, dead bodies of shooters and a few cops scattered. And Lanie and Ryan, in the middle of everything. "So where's the little girls?"

"Hospital," Russell answered, and turned to look at me. "They're going to be completely find, Lexi."

"And Brass?"

"Is also going to be fine. Now, we do have an idea as to what they were setting us up for," he said cheerfully, and motioned for me to follow him out to scene. As I walked through the sand, Russell pointed at a dead body. "This is their leader. They're all a part of a gang."

"You're kidding me," I groaned, and shook my head. "I've only dealt with gang cases once, and it never ends well."

"In this case, it will," he said, and crouched down next to the body. "They were setting us up for revenge on Ryan and Lanie."

"Then why did they keep shooting?" I exclaimed, and he sighed. "And why did they blow up the cop car?"

"Look, we did fairly well for the situation," he explained, and looked behind him. "One dead cop, that was it. And quite frankly, Lexi, you and I both know there could have been more."

"I don't understand this entire set up though, Russell!" I said, frustrated. "Why did they lead us here? Why did they shoot Ryan and Lanie?"

"I have no answers! Just a theory." He said, and stood up. "I think they led them here maybe because we CSI's put away one of their buddies."

"I don't remember a gangster case at all," I sighed, and Russell nodded in agreement. "But their entire shooting thing was just odd. I mean, instead of shooting everyone one time and being done, they spread the entire thing out over a course of an hour."

"Yes," he said, and looked back down at the body. "I think they were communicating via something or another. Which would explain the gap in shooting times."

"I see," I said dryly, and looked around in the bushes before pulling out a huge walkie-talkie. "Got it."

"Think Archie can get anything off it?" he asked, and examined another one by the next body.

I smirked. "There's a tape inside it. Bastards were recording the whole thing."

"So we kill the leader and 10 of his groupies," Russell said, looking over the desert. "You think this will spark some sort of war?"

"For what? Revenge on the CSI's?" I laughed, and he shrugged. "You don't really think that, do you?"

"Who knows anymore," he said, and motioned for me to hand him the walkie-talkie. "Because I found this entire thing to be extremely well-planned on their part."

"So what happens is that Ryan is involved in the gang," I said, pointing to his body next to Lanie's. "And Ryan sells Lanie her pot, which she gives to Patrick."

"Links the explosion boys with her, correct," he agreed, looking over at her body.

"And she what? Doesn't pay? So Ryan sets it up so she thinks her family's going to get a ransom deal out of the whole thing?" I asked, rubbing my temples. "The whole thing's odd though. We got the parents for killing the grandfather, which is completely unrelated."

"Exactly," he said, and clapped his hands together. "They had no clue their little angel was involved in this drug dealing stuff. So she arranges for her sisters and her to go with him. And they're dating, now that Patrick has a cozy cell in juvenile detention."

I shook my head. "Ryan set the whole thing up, led us here with her cell phone. Let us grab the kids, get them safe. But I doubt he knew the gang would kill him and Lanie both," I said quietly, and walked in the direction of his body. "That wasn't a part of the plan."

"And more than likely, there was a certain CSI or cop they were looking for," Russell filled in. "But they couldn't find them maybe? Which would explain the excessive amount of communication. They were debating whether to kill us or not."

"Because that's a lot of dirt on someone's hands," I mumbled, and leaned down next to Ryan's body, looking behind his ear. "Surprise, surprise. Same gang sign as Walkie-Talkie dude has."

"So Ryan's apart of the gang, and leads his girlfriend and her sibling into the whole thing in exchange for…drugs, maybe? To pay off her last debt?"

"Could be," I reasoned, and scratched my head. "So all together then. The gang's looking for revenge, and call Ryan for help. He gets his biggest buyer to grab her sisters and fake a kidnapping to pay for the last unpaid deal. They come out here, lead us to where they are. Gang starts shooting, but wait! They cant find who they're looking for."

"Then who are they looking for?" Russell pointed out, and I frowned.

"Which is what I don't understand," I sighed, and pursed my lips. "Everyone was here. Even Hodges."

"Not everyone," he said, shook his head. "Sara stayed at the lab. Doesn't do well around child cases, I told her to stay."

"Think they're still gonna be after her?" I groaned, and he shrugged.

"Time can only tell. And these tapes."

**A/N: Chapter compleettee! I really liked this chapter though I'm sorry if anyone finds it over the top or whatever:P It all leads to a grand plot scheme, which in the grand finale, will end The Newbie. And prepare everyone for a sequel!:D**

**Everything, in my opinion, is coming along nicely. Last time someone gets hurt for a while. But golly, who just loved Lexi being so overprotective of Greg? Table turner! **

**The entire dynamic of the gang shoot out will be explained more next chapter! I really hope everyone's enjoying this so far, but as I have said millions of times I am always open for suggestions. **

**Hint for next chapter: Who likes Gove?**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Thanks broski!:)**


	22. Birthday Surprises

**A/N: Don't own CSI**

**I'm sorry this update is kind of late, some stuff has been going down. A girl in my school filed a RESTRAINING ORDER against me because she says I've been "bullying her". Might I mention that her mother smokes and uses weed all the time and was probably high when she filled out the TRO.**

**My court date is the 22****nd****, and until then, I cannot attend my school because the judge refuses to push back the court date. This is all extremely random and uncalled for, I promise you that you're not reading the writing of a bully...:(**

**Enjoy!**

"Wake up sleepy head," a voice whispered in my ear, and I forced my eyes open. Greg was lying next to me, and he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. "Happy Birthday."

"'s not my birthday," I grumbled, and rolled out of the bed, promptly hitting the ground. "Damn."

"You're 29, not 30," he pointed out, and I shook my head. "What?"

"Don't even put 30 in my mind right now," I sighed, and rubbed my eyes. "How much longer till work, Greg?"

"4 hours," he said casually, and I checked my watch. He was right, of course. "But don't you want to do something for your birthday?"

"Technically I'm not 29 for another 5 hours," I pointed out, and he sniggered. "But I am hungry."

"Of course you are," he said, and rolled out of the bed himself. "But you will notice I ordered your favorite."

"So considerate of you to get me pizza," I mused, and he grinned at me proudly. "You can't cook worth shit, so maybe ordering in was better."

"Yes, it was," he agreed, and enveloped me in a hug. "Plus, Russell's got new information on the gang bangers."

"Only took a month," I reminded him miserably. A month of knowing these people had killed a cop and shot Brass, with no trace of how to get the people.

"A new murder case has opened up," he told me, and led me out of the room. "Freaky case too. Chick looks like Sara."

"So therefore we can come to the conclusion that they're after her!" I said with a sarcastic enthusiasm. "Yay!"

"Well, she's with Grissom on vacation anyway," Greg informed me, and we walked into the kitchen. Sure enough, a boxed pizza sat on the counter, along with flowers. I blushed and turned to look at him.

"Thanks," I said, and sniffed the flowers. "You knew I loved roses."

"Pain in the ass to get them, too," he said, and opened up the pizza box. "You would be surprised how many people back ordered that stuff for Valentines Day."

"Worst part about my birthday," I said, recalling back when I was younger and always got roses from the science nerds on my birthday. "Everyone wants to get flowers."

"It wasn't the most original," he admitted, and handed me a paper plate with a slice of pizza. "But I already got your other gift."

"You should stop getting me gifts," I complained, and laid my head on his shoulder as he sat down next to me. "The necklace was plenty."

His eyes wandered to the necklace that still hung around my neck, and he smiled. "Only the best for you!"

"I'm not some trophy girlfriend," I scoffed, and he ruffled my already messy hair. "I'm smarter than all of them."

"You know you aren't a trophy girlfriend," he said, and rolled his eyes. "I would have to be filthy rich, remember?"

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" I asked, and he laughed as he bit into his pizza. "Honestly though, best birthday already."

"Yeah, I know I'm a badass party thrower," he said cockily, leaning back in his chair and nearly falling over. I grabbed the back of hit, holding him up. "Okay, but not the most balanced."

"Amen," I muttered, and jumped out of his chair.

"Look what I even remembered," he said with a smirk, and reached into the fridge, only to pull out milkshakes. "Vanilla for you!"

"You are seriously the best," I mumbled, and he kissed my cheek before sliding it over to me. "How the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Your good looks, dear trophy girlfriend," he said, and I scoffed, but refrained from hitting him. "You know I'm kidding."

"Maybe," I said, and swallowed a bite of pizza. "Holy God this is so good."

"It's nice to see you eat," he laughed, and poked at my stomach. "No fat whatsoever. Werido."

"I'm petite!" I defended, and he chuckled. "Not my fault I have the body of a 12 year old boy."

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, you do not, that is for sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Oh, nothing," he answered, took the last bite of his pizza. "You can have my crust."

"And you should swallow before you talk," I said, frowning. "But really, thanks for the birthday dinner thingy. I don't really know what to call it."

He swallowed pointedly and sipped on his milkshake. "Say what you want, but I cannot _wait _to show you your birthday present."

"Then why don't you just show me now?" I whined, and I jumped down from the stool, tossing my paper plate in the garbage. He rolled his eyes and tossed his in the trash as well.

"Nah, I need to save it for when everyone is around," he said cheekily, and wrapped his arms around my waist. "And 29 is not that old."

"As I've said before, Greg," I whispered, our foreheads touching now. "Most people my age are married and have little babies running around."

"If my mom doesn't drop hints, you do," he said quietly, his brown eyes connecting with my blue ones. "But I'll take what you said into consideration."

I gave in and kissed him, subconsciously thinking about how much more his hands were messing up my bedhead. I pulled away, and he leaned back against the wall. "Wonder what the neighbors think," I laughed, and he kissed my forehead.

"Doesn't matter to me," He said simply, and I leaned my head against his chest. "We're the best people ever, they probably love us."

"But we don't know any of them," I pointed out, closing my eyes and listening to the rapidity of his heartbeat. "At all."

He laughed, and I got goosebumps as his chest rumbled. "Yeah, we don't. But I have met the little girl down the street, she sells damn good girl scout cookies."

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing," I muttered, inhaling his scent carefully. "Buying cookies from kids."

"If we ever have a daughter, there's no way in hell she's gonna be a girl scout," he stated, and I chuckled. "She will be a scientist."

"Not everyone likes chemistry and DNA, Greg," I reminded him. "For example: Me. I really don't care for it. I was just really good at it."

"Our babies are gonna be geniuses," he said into my ear, his breath turning the tips of my ears bright red. "All 4 of them."

"God, wont Nana Olaf love us," I said, smiling to myself. "Lots of spebarms."

"And you've even got the lingo down," he laughed, and tightened his grip on my waist. I leaned back, so he was holding me up. "No wonder she loves you already."

"Your mother on the other hand," I said quietly, and looked away. "She hates me."

"I don't think she hates you," he said, shaking his head. "I think she just holds you responsible for my kidnapping."

"Hey, give me some credit!" I exclaimed, pouting. "It's been an entire month since anything happened to the team."

"Besides Sara's twin getting murdered," he reminded me, and I grimaced. "Well, not her twin. But the chick that looks like her."

"You know, I'm pretty sure Nick told me that this same thing happened once," I said to him, and he raised an eyebrow. "He said it happened another time too."

"Once," Greg admitted, and adjusted his spot where he was leaning against the wall. "Just once."

"You say that like not many bad things happen to the crime lab," I chuckled. "Name em all."

"The bad things that have happened in the entire crime lab? CSI's and all?" he asked in disbelief, and I nodded surely. "Let's see here. I can't even really put it in order…Holly Gribbs was shot on a scene, she ended up dying. My lab blew up when I was a little DNA tech-"

"You're kidding me, right?" I laughed, grinning at him. He shook his head and just kind of shrugged. "Who did it?"

"Catherine, on accident," he assured me, then continued his thinking. "Um…Nick was stuck in a glass coffin. We got him out though."

"Obviously."

"Poor guy though. And Sara was kidnapped and stuck in a desert to die," he added, and I shook my head in shock. "We lost another CSI too. Warrick Brown."

"Who was he?" I asked softly, tracing a hand across his tensed face.

"Great guy," he breathed, and closed his eyes. "He was the first person who showed me how to dress and keep my kit organized. He was just…awesome."

"He quit?" I questioned, and Greg pursed his lips.

"Ah, no. He was shot and killed in his car." He said uncomfortably, and I nodded understandingly.

"I've only ever lost one CSI on my team," I said uneasily, and raked a hand through my hair. "When I worked in Phoenix."

"It sucks," he agreed, and played with the ends of my hair. "I miss him a lot. Not the same."

"It never is," I muttered, and he rested his chin on my forehead. "You'll be okay, baby."

"I already am," he whispered, and I smiled to myself. He cleared his throat. "Then we got Riley Adams, and later Ray. Riley ended up leaving, then Ray just went away after he killed this serial killer we were hunting down. Which eventually led to Catherine being demoted. When she was demoted, Russell came in, as well as Morgan. Then Catherine left after some assassins were coming after her, and she got shot. But now she works for the FBI and all is well."

"I don't think that's exactly everything," I said awkwardly, and he tensed up for a moment. "Henry told me about when you got beat up."

"That doesn't…doesn't really count," he said lamely, and I pulled away from his grip on me. "It wasn't that huge of a deal. I've already told you most of the story anyways."

"Minus the part where you get beaten and hospitalized," I reminded him, and he shrugged. "Greg, I wouldn't look at you any differently."

"I know you wouldn't, but you have to understand, Lex. That's a lot of baggage," he said shortly, and I kissed him firmly on the lips. His reaction was slightly slowed, but I pinned him against the wall, this time running my hands through his hair. I pulled away, and smirked.

"Trust me, we both have baggage," I smiled, and he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He said, and I ran a hand down his chest. "What?"

"Put a shirt on," I sighed, and closed my eyes. "Please?"

…

"So, new murder case!" I said, walking into Russell's office. "Greg says it's an interesting one. I want on it."

Russell looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Fine, you can join Greg and Nick."

"Thanks!" I said happily, and turned to leave.

"Only because it's your birthday, Lexi!" he called, and I stopped in my tracks.

"I'm still 28 for another hour!" I sighed, and check my watch. "57 minutes, to be exact."

"Just go help Nick and Greg," he laughed and I hurried off towards the evidence room. Inside, Greg and Nick were reviewing clothing.

"This looks interesting," I mused, pulling gloves on. "What's the story behind it all?"

"Female vic, Gertrude Kingwell, age 34. Tossed out of a car, body rolled down a hill. We're getting any possible prints from her clothes," Nick explained, and slid a picture over to me.

"They slit her throat," I noted, staring at the odd resemblance between her and Sara that Greg had mentioned. "Quick. Like they didn't want her to suffer."

"Or quick because they're gangsters and don't have the time to torture someone," Greg spoke up, and I quirked and eyebrow. "What?"

"You still think this has a relation to Sara?" I asked, trying to sound bored, but I couldn't help but agree with Greg. The whole thing seemed like he was right. Like they wanted Sara.

"Yes!" he insisted, and glanced over at Nick. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because we've heard zilch from the gangbangers?" I reminded him, and he rolled his eyes. "No communication with Sara or the lab whatsoever. If they ever wanted revenge, I think they're over it."

"They never forget." Nick said firmly. "Ever."

"Oh come on!" I sighed, and handed him the photo back. "Gangsters must be really stupid. There's gonna be prints all over that shirt. They don't have the time to be careful either."

Greg glanced up at me, and I looked at the shirt he was working on pointedly. "Just…just work on the shoes, okay?" he grumbled, and I picked up the heels.

"I'm sorry, was she a stripper?" I asked, examining the six-inch heels.

"Maybe in her spare time or something," Nick answered, but shrugged. "She worked at a diner though, so I'm really not quite sure."

"And besides, you've probably worn heels that tall before," Greg said, motioning to the tall shoes.

"Once," I clarified, and smirked at the heels. "When I was a senior. For prom, I went with a guy who was 6'3. At the time I was only 5 feet tall so I wore a pair like these to make myself seem taller."

Greg and Nick both laughed, and I crossed my arms. "You only grew two inches between your senior year and now?" Nick asked, and I set the shoe down.

"Four!" I declared, and he shook his head. "I grew _4 _inches!"

"You are not 5'4, Lexi," he said. "There's no possible way you are that tall."

"Unless you're wearing those," Greg joked, and pointed to the heels again."

"I'll have you know that despite my height, I was highly respected in high school," I snapped, and Greg smirked. "Smartest in the science club, full ride to Stanford. So _ha_."

"You were respected because they feared you," Greg laughed, and handed the shirt to me. "Go along, give this to Henry. He's running DNA for tonight."

"Oh, I have nothing for Hodges?" I whined, and Nick tossed me a small container. "Sweet, what's this?"

"That's what you have to get it to Hodges for!" he reminded me, and I nodded. I took off walking down the hall, stopping in my tracks when I reached Henry. He was, as always, flirting with Mandy. Gag.

"Henry, I have some DNA for you!" I sang, and handed him the shirt. "I am just the messenger, I have no idea if anything is wrong or right with this shirt. Sorry."

"Thanks, I'll start on that. Hey, take this back to Ecklie please?" he requested, handing me a file.

"Ecklie?" I asked, and looked at him funny.

"He's taking over some huge conjoined case, it involves 6 or 7 different cities? All about some huge serial killer, and he asked me to get this done first. I figured since you walk right past his office that maybe you could give it to him?" he asked nervously, and I nodded,

"No it's fine, I'll drop it off. I was just asking because I haven't heard about this conjoined case yet," I explained, and smiled. "Bye guys, I'll go get this to Ecklie right now."

With that, I walked out the door and headed for Ecklie's office. I hadn't even been in his office, so I spent a fair amount of time wandering around and wondering where it was. When I did find it, the door was shut. So I knocked.

The door opened, and Ecklie greeted me with a nod. "Yes?" he asked, and glanced back into his office.

"Henry asked me to give you your tox reports," I said, and handed him the file. "I was on my way to the evidence room anyways."

"Thanks, Smith. Getting anywhere on that woman that looks like Sara?" he asked impatiently, and I rolled my eyes.

"Getting anywhere on your serial killer case?" I replied, and he sighed. "And yes, we're making progress."

"Just what I wanted to here," he said shortly, and shut the door in my face.

"Apparently someone's feeling cranky today," I mumbled, and walked back towards the evidence room. And asleep in the big chair, was Nick. And Greg was reviewing a few pieces of paper. "I was gone for 5 minutes, and Nick's asleep?"

"He's not asleep, he's resting his eyes," Greg corrected, and I smirked at Nick, who was clearly snoring. "He's worked his ass of this week."

"Oh I'm sure," I said, and walked over to where he was now looking at a necklace. I stood on my tippey-toes, trying to see what he was looking at since he was holding it so high. When I couldn't, I yanked his arms down.

"What?" he laughed, and pointedly lowered the necklace.

"I couldn't see it," I grumbled, and squinted. "Blood on the crystal in the shape of a fingerprint."

"Fantastic," he said and rubbed his hands together, though it didn't work that well because he was wearing gloves. There was a beeping noise, and I looked down at Greg's cell phone. He pulled it out and grinned, before pressing a button and looking at me. "Happy Birthday."

"Yeah, I guess I can't deny-" I started, but was cut off by his lips attaching themselves to mine. I took one quick glance around before kissing him back.

"Hey, get a room!" a voice whined from the doorway. I smiled and pulled away, tilting my head and looking at Hodges. "Thank you."

"It was my birthday present," I defended, and leaned against the table. "And what do you need?"

"I have your trace report on the shoe, Sanders," he said, and handed him a paper. "Car oil, on the bottom on the high heel."

"So she was in an alley?" he asked, and Hodges shrugged.

"Could've been anywhere, don't you think?" he rationalized, and I narrowed my eyes at him. "It's Vegas, plenty of car oil around here."

"I guess you're right," Greg muttered, and pursed his lips. "Thanks though."

"Lexi, if you can keep Sanders in this good of a mood all the time, I will be perfectly okay with PDA," Hodges informed me. I glanced over at Greg, who was blushing slightly. "Henry's almost done with your shirt, by the way."

"Yeah, thanks Hodges!" I called as he walked away from our evidence room. I turned and looked at Nick, who was stirring. "Well good morning."

"Yeah, morning," he grumbled, and picked up the paper he'd been reading over. "Why didn't you wake me up, man?" He looked at Greg when he said this, and I smirked.

Greg shrugged, suddenly becoming interested in the vics bracelet. "You needed rest, no big deal if you sleep a little for once."

"No one important saw, right?" he yawned, and rubbed his eyes.

"Unless Hodges is now important, then no." I answered, and Nick smiled.

"So, are we getting anywhere with this?" he asked us, and Greg closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Car oil on the vics shoe, Henry's running DNA on the fingerprint I had on the shirt. And Lexi just found a bloody fingerprint on the necklace."

"Lexi, Greg," a different voice said from the doorway. "And Nick, sorry. But Doc Robbins needs you, like now." Dave said, looking around at the three of us. "I don't know details, just that he needs you."

"Thanks Super Dave," Nick said, and Dave nodded before walking away. "You guys go ahead, I'll finish processing this stuff."

I rolled my eyes and walked down the hallway quickly, Greg right behind me. "You know, you really should have ran track in high school," he stated as we reached the doors to the morgue. "You're fast."

"Just at some things," I said modestly, and he laughed.

"Yeah, okay." And with that, he opened the door for me, leading me to enter the morgue. Which, in my opinion, was freezing cold.

"We're not gonna have to put on scrubs, right Doc?" I asked wearily, looking at our vic.

"Not necessary," he assured me, and I carefully walked up to the vic. "And I've got something new for you."

"What would that be?" Greg asked, leaning against me gently.

"Your COD," he said, and pointed to the vics throat. "This wasn't the cause."

"Then what was?" I asked, looking around her body. "No other apparent injuries."

"One must looked beneath the surface," he quoted, and motioned us over to her head. "Or in this case, the hair. Blunt force trauma to the head, caused her to bleed out."

"So he didn't kill her instantly," I muttered, and Doc Robbins shook his head. "Which do you think came first, Doc?"

"More than likely the throat," he answered, and pointed to the injury. "Wasn't deep enough to kill her."

"So when they figured out they didn't kill her right away, the beat her over the head with something?" Greg asked with a grimace, and Doc Robbins nodded.

"The angle and size of the wound suggests she was hit with a crowbar, or some kind of medal at least. And she was most likely standing up when she was hit. It was clean, one hit did the job."

"It knocked her out then, because she you said she bled out," I filled in, and he nodded again. "So now we need to go back to an alleyway and look for a crowbar, yay."

"Have fun!" he laughed as we made our way out of the morgue.

"Isn't it just a great birthday?" I said sarcastically, and Greg frowned.

"I thought my pizza and milkshakes were pretty good," he said meekly, and I grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers.

"They were amazing, sweetie," I promised, and laid my head on his shoulder as we stopped in the middle of the hallway. "But I really do hate returning to scenes."

"You haven't been to this one though," he pointed out and I laid my head on his shoulder. "So really Nick and I are the only ones returning."

"Yeah, okay, smartass." I said playfully, picking up my head and continuing walking. He looked over and smirked at me, taking my hand again.

"Love you Lex." He said seriously, and I grinned.

"Love you too, Greg."

"Well hello, Lexi."

The words rang through my ears, and I my blood ran cold. I looked up, mortified at the words I had heard.

And smiling at me with pure satisfaction and happiness, was the one person I did not need nor want to see right now.

Gove.

**A/N: HE'S BAAAAACKKK!**

**I hate Gove so much, yet I love his evil character so much. I'm sorry this chapter was a little short, I was gonna throw some other stuff in BEFORE I brought Gove back, but the moment was so perfect I had to throw him in there!:) **

**Yeah, I know you all hate me. Or love me. I'm not really sure yet, but I do know one way I can find out….**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Thanks guys, you are amazing.(:**


	23. Continued Surprises and New Leads

**A/N: Don't own CSI.**

**Oh, and since I touched on what the hell was going on in my personal life on Monday, what with some crazy chick filing a restraining order against me for "bullying her"(the only accounts of said "bullying" were me being overly aggressive in a basketball game.) I would like to note that things have been looking up! I am now allowed back on campus after missing 6 days of school! My friends and I were very, very happy to see each other.:) Once again, I promise you are not reading the work of a bully, lol!**

**I have a very fun weekend ahead of me, so please, ENJOY! **

I stopped dead in my tracks, Greg giving me a confused look. Part of me wanted to shield him from Gove, to save my own ass and make sure he never had to meet such a jerk.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, glaring at my former supervisor.

"I'm sure Ecklie told you about the gang case that is going around 6 or 7 different cities," he said quietly, and smirked. "Well, San Diego was one of them."

"That's just dandy," I said coldly, and drug Greg along to get away from him.

"Oh wait, Smith!" Gove called, walking behind us. I let go of Greg's hand, turning around to face Gove. "Does Conrad know about this?" he motioned between Greg and I.

"We served our suspension, thank you very much," I seethed, and crossed my arms. He chuckled before looking up at me. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said with a shrug, and smirked. "But really, Lexi, shouldn't you lay off the PDA?"

"And shouldn't you mind your own business?" I retorted, earning a glare from him.

"I can tell Conrad you have an attitude problem, Smith," he sneered, and I rolled my eyes. "See, there you go again."

"You're not my supervisor anymore, Gove," I growled, and Greg placed a hand on my arm. "So why don't you just solve your little gang case and go back to San Diego?"

"Wouldn't you just love that," he laughed, and shook his head. "I don't think you realize how big of a case this is. Remember last month, when you all got shot at?"

"I already know that this all relates back to that," I snapped, and he glanced over at Greg. "So you don't need to fill me in."

"Listen, Smith," he said quietly, stepping closer to me. "I've got a CSI on suspension for having intimate relations with this case's suspects. I don't need your smart mouth."

"Just because Grayson's giving you hell right now doesn't mean I can't," I said. Greg's eyes flickered between Gove and I.

"It was Grace, not Grayson," he sighed, and I felt my eyes widen and breath catch slightly. "Yeah, I know."

I sucked in my breath and nodded slowly. "Poor Ryan."

"Yeah, he's taking it pretty hard," Gove agreed, but glared at me. "Are you on this case of the woman they got?"

"Yeah, Greg and I are. Plus Nick," I added, and he nodded. "We were just about to go back to the scene."

"Forget some evidence?" he taunted, and I rolled my eyes. "Same old sloppy processing ways."

"I'm a damn good CSI, Gove," I said fiercely. "I don't need your approval anymore."

"Oh please," he scoffed, and his old face wrinkling in disagreement. "You always screwed up. Whatever idiot let you pass your proficiencies in Phoenix was just letting you pass because you have good aim with a gun."

"Hey," Greg spoke up, glaring at Gove. "Lexi's a good CSI, if you're too blind to notice."

"You're Sanders," Gove mused, and Greg narrowed his eyes. "Her boyfriend."

"What's it matter to you?" I questioned, grabbing Greg's hand and squeezing it.

"Nothing," he answered quickly, and looked around. "I have to go, Smith. It's been nice chatting with you. I'll see you later, Sanders."

Greg gave a half-way and turned to look at me. "Who the hell is that?" he asked as soon as Gove was gone.

"Adam Gove," I answered, leading Greg towards the locker room so I could get my vest and kit. "My supervisor from San Diego. Pretty sure I told you about him."

"You might have," he admitted, and swung our hands back and forth. "I doubt I'll ever remember that though."

I laughed and opened my locker. I felt my heart stop momentarily when I saw it was completely empty. "What the hell?" I breathed, and looked over to the door. The pictures were all flipped upside down, like they were done like that on purpose. "Someone took my stuff."

"What?" Greg asked, coming up from behind me and peering into the locker. "Are you sure you didn't leave this stuff at home?"

"Positive," I muttered, and pointed to the door. "It's all screwed up."

"I'll be back," he promised, and took off out of the room. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion and moved over to his open locker. I looked inside, noticing his stuff was pretty much a mess. Besides his neatly organized kit, everything else was scattered. On the wall, he had a picture of the team. I wasn't in it, so I imagined it was from a while ago.

"Greg said your stuff was taken out of your locker," Nick said, walking into the room and leaning against the wall. I nodded, shutting Greg's and sitting on the bench. "How much?"

"It's empty," I answered dryly, looking over at him. "Everything's gone."

"Well you can easily get a new kit and vest," Nick informed me, and I pursed my lips. "Plus you have your gun on you."

"It's not that bad," I agreed, and bit my lip. "But I'm just pissed that someone would do that."

"I don't blame you," he said, heading for his own locker. He opened it, and peered inside. "Just you then, because all my stuff is intact."

"Oh I'm sure," I sighed and put my shoe on the bench to tie my Vans. "Only I would have this much shit on my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" Nick asked, sounding surprised. "It's Valentines Day too, you know."

"Don't worry, I know," I chuckled, just as Greg and Russell walked into the room. Russell peered into my locker wordlessly, and I rested my chin in my hands.

"Well I guess you were right," he said quietly, and looked back at me. "Don't you have a spare kit in your car?"

"Yeah," I assured him, and stood up. "I just kind of want to find out who did this."

"Don't worry, I'll have Finn take prints, since all she's doing is flirting with the Supervisor from Chicago," he laughed, and I smiled at the thought of Finn. "Just don't touch anything."

"Deal," I said, and I grabbed Greg's hand when he walked out. "We ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you out there," Greg promised, and I smiled as I walked out the door. I slowed down, trying to hear what they were saying.

"How about a birthday present, man?" Nick asked, shutting his locker.

"I got her one," he scoffed, shutting his own locker. "It's at home currently, with my mom."

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked, sounding confused.

"My mom's visiting for a week because my dad's work has led him to Vegas," Greg answered simply. "She's watching after Lexi's gift."

I walked away, not wanting to hear anymore. I needed to cheer up. It was my birthday. I was 29 now.

I was _twenty-nine _now.

Ew.

…""I've always hated alleyways," I told Nick and Greg as we walked towards the former crime scene. "The few freaky murders we did have in San Diego, were all in alleys."

"Aren't you lucky," Nick chuckled, and we all stopped, surveying the scene. "Pictures show there was no crowbar anywhere in this alley."

"So he ditched the murder weapon," Greg filled in, and Nick nodded. "If you were in his shoes, where would you toss your crowbar that you just killed a lady with?"

"Dumpster." Nick said firmly, motioning to it.

"I'm not going though that," Greg said, shaking his head. "I don't even think someone can fit in that, it's not very big."

"You wanna bet on that?" Nick asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Greg answered, pulling out his wallet. I rolled my eyes and watched the two as they each pulled out 5 bucks. They slapped it onto the hood of the Denali, and Nick smirked.

"Utilize what you have, Greg," Nick said, and looked over at me. "She can fit in there."

"No way in hell," I said, shaking my head. "I refuse to jump into that little trash can and- _let go of me_!"

I screamed as Greg and Nick both picked me up, tossing me gently into the dumpster. "See, I told you, G."

"You were right," Greg sighed, and pointed to the cash. "It's yours. But that was fun, we should throw her in dumpsters more often."

I closed my eyes and plugged my nose. "You are so lucky I'm not wearing my new shoes."

"Guess we are," Nick laughed, and I crossed my arms. "Now, you're gonna be looking for a crowbar, Lexi."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I grumbled, and began peeling away trash, chucking it behind my shoulder. "How many used condoms can one count in a trash can?"

Greg's head snapped up, and I chucked the condom in his direction. He dove out of the way, grimacing. "That's really immature."

"So is throwing me in a _dumpster_." I pointed out, then looked over at Nick. "On my birthday."

"Yeah, you'd better take a shower when we get back," Nick said, frowning. "Because you're not getting in my car like that."

"Or mine," Greg pointed out. "Just because you rode with Nick doesn't mean I'm getting you on the way back."

"I guess I'll walk then," I shrugged, and returned to the trash can. I stopped dead upon seeing a shiny crowbar. "Greg, hand me the camera."

He gently gave it to me, standing on the edge of the dumpster and peeking in. "Nice spot," he complimented as I took a picture of the crowbar. I handed it back to him and pulled it out of the trash can, smirking at the blood on it. "Bet we can get prints off that."

"Better be able to," I snapped, and handed Nick the crowbar. "Help me out?"

"No way," they said in unison, and I pursed my lips.

"Please, Greg?" I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. "Do it for me?"

"Don't do it, man," Nick advised, shaking his head. "Not worth the stench."

"That's actually very hurtful," I scoffed, and looked back to Greg. "I promise that if no one helps me, I will fall out while trying to get out of here."

"Fine," Greg sighed, placing his hands on my waist and carefully pulling me out. "Yeah, you smell awful."

"Do I?" I asked, and smirked. "Oh come on though, you still want a hug."

And with that I jumped onto him, hugging him despite his struggle "Lex!" he groaned, and I laughed at his embarrassment. "Now I'm going to smell as bad as you."

"I don't really know if that's possible," Nick said quietly, and I turned to glare at him. "What? Just saying."

"Come on, we got our crowbar. Time to go home, boys." I said, and pulled away from Greg. "And I'm going in your car."

"Why?" he whined. "I'm dropping you off at home and you're taking a shower."

"I've never had such a weird boyfriend," I muttered, walking towards the Denali already.

"But you love me!" Greg called, and I smiled to myself. "Right?"

"Yes, Greg!" I yelled back, and opened the passenger door. "I love you!"

….

"You really do smell much better," Greg commented as I entered the break room. I turned and raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. "At least I got my mom out of there for you."

"Greg, I really don't hate your mom," I sighed. "She's the one who hates me."

"I know, she's a crazy over-protective mother," he said, and looked over at the coffee machine. "You can't pick your family."

"Believe me, I know," I laughed, and he motioned for me to sit next to him at the table. I did, looking at him suspiciously. "What?"

"I got your birthday present," he said happily, and pulled something out of his pocket, sliding it across the table to me. "Well, that's present one."

"Okay?" I said nervously, opening the jewelry box. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch in a smile as I looked over the amethyst earrings. "Greg, you shouldn't have."

"But I did," he said cheekily, and grinned. "Your birth stone."

"Thanks," I said, leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. "If we weren't at work, I'd kiss you on the lips."

"Present two," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the break room. "Is at home."

"I wonder what it could be," I said innocently, leaning on him as we walked out of the crime lab.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see." He said flatly, not giving in.

…

"Greg, why are you doing this?"

"You know the guys and I were talking the other day," he said casually, his hands still on my eyes. "And I think my new nickname for you is gonna be Sexy Lexi."

I snorted. "Only on nights you get lucky."

"Yeah, I figured you would say that," he sighed, and I heard a door open. He carefully led me into our house, though everything was still black because he was hiding me from seeing anything. "Ta-Da!"

He pulled his hands away from my face, and I opened my eyes. Standing in front of me was Nana Olaf, outstretching her arms. I hurried into them, hugging the old lady.

"Glad fodseldag, Alexandra!" she said happily, and I felt my heart melt at her kindness.

"Nana Olaf, det vaere lenge dag!" I said, proud my studying of the Norwegian-English dictionary was paying off. Greg laughed, and I turned to look at him.

"You just said it's been long day," he informed me, biting his lip. "It's tid for time. Not dag."

"Sorry," I mumbled, and turned to look at his grandmother. She was fishing something out of her pocket. She finally found it, and handed a small little box to me.

"I get you present," she said, appearing to think hard. "Belong to my mother."

I carefully opened the box, and I smiled softly as I saw the silver ring. It was old, but still beautiful with a small ruby in the middle. "Thank you so much," I whispered , hugging her again. Greg smiled at the two of us. "You can speak English now?"

She looked over at Greg, and he translated in Norwegian. She looked back to me and shrugged. "Small."

"Well, thank you again," I said quietly, and she touched my cheek gently.

"You good for Gregory," she told me, so quietly I had to strain to hear it. "He know that. I too know."

"Ah, thank you," I said, and glanced over at Greg. He was leaning against the counter, smiling. I slipped the ring on, and she walked over to Greg, giving him a hug.

"Gregory, your mother waiting for me," she said in a thick accent. "In parking lot. I go to her, I sleep."

"Let me help you," Greg offered, and she waved him away.

"I no need your help," she laughed, and waddled out the door, waving at the both of us.

"That was the best birthday present ever," I said to Greg, walking over and wrapping my arms around his neck. "You planned out the whole thing?"

"That wasn't exactly your present," he said awkwardly, and kissed my forehead. "My grandmother's just awesome."

"Hell yeah she is," I agreed, and he scooped me up, holding me bridal-style. "Major cheese factor here, sweetie."

"I know," he said carelessly, hurrying up the stairs. "But this is your present."

And sitting on the dresser, were two plates, full of pancakes and bacon. He set me down, leading me to the food. "You are the best. Ever."

"Hey, way to get your line right this time!" he teased, and I hit him lightly. I scooped up my plate and sat down comfortably on the floor, cutting up my pancake.

"You're a very unique present giver," I commented through a mouth-full of pancake. "Great job though. I, however, don't want to think about what the hell I'm supposed to get you."

"You don't have to get me anything," he told me seriously, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah right," I said, shaking my head. "You know I'm going to get you something. Can't promise it'll be equally as awesome."

"As long as you're here, that's good enough of a present for me," he said cheekily. "All I need is a bed and you."

"Oh God, Greg," I laughed, and he grinned at me. "Your cheesy level is sky-rocketing as we speak."

"Can't help it," he said lamely, and I leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. "Does that mean I'll get my future birthday present today?"

"Technically, it'd be my birthday present," I clarified, and he stared at the floor, a grin playing on his face. "But yeah."

His head snapped up, a bright smile playing on his face. "Do we have to eat breakfast?"

"Well, I really think-" I began, but was tackled to the floor, his lips roaming down my neck. "This'll work too."

…

"You better figure this whole mess out, Ecklie!" a voice shouted. I picked up my pace, hearing it coming from our break room. "The sheriff in Denver will have my ass for this!"

"We're working on our only lead, Runnels." Ecklie said desperately. Approaching the noise, I spotted the source. Ecklie was arguing with someone from Denver, and I sighed. Derek Runnels, my former Supervisor in Phoenix. Why had my past been showing up to haunt me every freaking day?

"Fingerprints on the crowbar were a match to Trey Grangler," I informed him, ignoring Derek. "Henry just finished it."

"Great, thank you," Ecklie said half-heartedly, and I raised my eyebrows. "You can go on another case now."

"Lexi Smith?" Derek asked, and I spun around on my heel to look at him. "What are you doing here? You transferred to San Diego."

"And from there I transferred to Vegas," I answered shortly, patting him on the shoulder. "Good to see you, Derek."

I hurried off down the hall, desperate to find Russell in his office. Instead I found a young kid, sitting in a chair and twirling a basketball on his fingers. "You looking for Russell?" he asked me, and I nodded.

"Yeah, is he on a case?" I asked awkwardly, fidgeting with my fingers. "I can always call him."

"No worries, he's talking to Finn," he answered, stopping the basketball. "You must be the new kid on the team."

"4 months here and I'm still new?" I asked, and he smirked. I sat down in the other chair across from Russell's desk. "But yeah. Lexi Smith."

He shook my hand, and nodded knowingly at me. "Charlie Russell. I'm his son."

"That plays at WLVU," I remembered, and he nodded. "Yeah, your dad mentions you a lot. He's pretty proud."

He chuckled and shrugged. "Dad's proud of a lot of stuff."

"He's a good supervisor," I said, pursing my lips. "I'm not saying that to be a kiss ass, either."

"I know," Charlie laughed, and set the basketball on the desk. "But my dad never shuts up about his team. About Nick, Morgan, Finn. That Hodges dude too. And you and Greg. God, he's always talking about how Greg's obsessed with you."

I blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "A public relationship in a work place is hard to hide," I agreed. "You enjoy college?"

"Not the rules," he said jokingly. "But everything else is great."

"You got to a party college," I stated quietly. "I went to Stanford- how much partying do you think there was at a nerd school?"

He laughed and shrugged. "I'm gonna assume not much."

"Hey, Lexi," Russell said from the doorway, announcing his arrival. "I see you've met my son, Charlie."

"Uh, yeah," I said, and Russell sat down at his chair. "I need a new case."

"It's been a slow night," he said, sipping his coffee. "I don't even have a case for you to go on, Lexi."

"Can you at least tell me about this huge gang case then? I'm so confused as to why people from Chicago, Denver, and San Diego need to be here right now!" I said desperately, and DB nodded.

"Charlie, get out of here," he said casually. "Case discussion, you know you can't hear."

"Fine," he grumbled, stepping out of the office and closing the door behind him.

"You remember when Sara was on that rape case, right after New Years?" he asked, and I nodded. "Well, she put 4 guys in prison for it. Those 4 guys? All leaders of this huge gang, South Bend."

I snorted. "That's a lame name."

"Not very intimidating for a gang, I understand. But after the shooting, and after they slit the throat of the girl who looks like Sara…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Suddenly, 6 different cities and their Crime Lab's have CSI's that are the target of this gang."

"So this gang…is country wide?" I asked, surprised. DB nodded.

"Exactly. And the CSI's that are being targeted were all leads on some case or another. But not all cases were recent. The man from Sacramento, his CSI was on the case 4 years prior to all of this," he explained, looking confused. "It's like they all decided to get revenge simultaneously."

"I bet they did." I muttered, and he raised an eyebrow at me.

"What do you mean?" he asked, sipping his coffee again.

"Well, what if they all decided it was time to get even with anyone who ever out them away or something?" I guessed. "And so then they targeted the CSI's who worked their cases."

"Which would explain why it's nation-wide," DB filled in, and I nodded. "So a huge gang is after one specific person to take down?"

"We should probably get a list of who those people are from each city," I said, and he nodded in agreeance. "Their gang is just so large, I doubt much will stop them."

"I do too," he said, nodding. "However, the Supervisors from the other cities that are here right now think it's some random attack as a form of revenge on their CSI's."

"What all cities are here?" I asked, grimacing.

"San Diego, Denver, Chicago, Sacramento, Reno, and Houston," he rambled off, and I nodded slowly. "Plus us."

"Great," I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "So how do we get this to end?"

"That's why everyone has gathered here," he said distastefully. "Every Supervisor has selected one CSI to join them here. From there, we're hoping to eventually get to the bottom of this."

"How long you think that'll take?" I mumbled, massaging my temples. "A year?"

"We've got several leads on the case, Lexi," he said, apparently trying to be hopeful. "I would say 4 months. Tops."

"Still…4 months?" I muttered, the number seeming crazy to me. "Think of the last time a case took you that long."

"I've never had a case take me that long." He answered, leaning back in his chair.

"So what…what are we doing then? How do we _end _this? Gathering Supervisors and CSI's will not conjure a solution. We have to know what they want, we have to compromise." I said firmly. "Because there's no way we could arrest every gang member in the entire group."

"You're right, Lexi," he admitted. "We have to create contact with them. And we have to compromise, before they hurt anyone else."

"This just has not been my lucky week," I chuckled, and he nodded thoughtfully.

"And I'm going to need your help. If you can get one of those suspects in the murder of the young woman- if you can get one of them to squeal about who their ring leader is…we might have found a way of contact." He decided. I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Why does everyone always put me on interrogation duty? Isn't that Brass's job?"

"Yes, but you're also very good at annoying people."

**A/N: Finally! A normal sized chapter! Sorry it has taken me so long to deliver at least 4,000 words! **

**What are we thinking of the new gang thing? I hate diving into the world of gangs because they're just so freaking scary to me...but this is how I plan on ending The Newbie, when it's all done and over with.**

**Oh, Nana Olaf, making a reappearance. And Greg's presents to Lexi…I'm seriously contemplating killing Lexi off so I can have Greg all to myself!**

**KIDDING! Don't freak out, I would never kill my favorite OC off. Ever.**

**And Gove is back! Mwahaha! You evil devil you! Who caught the part about Grace and one of the gang suspects?! Her and Ryan? Presumably over? **

…**gives Morgan room to push her way into Ryan's life?;)**

**We also met Derek Runnels, who has been briefly mentioned as Lexi's old Supervisor in like Chapter 2…I don't remember the exact chapter, it was a while ago. But what do we think of him? I'm thinking that Chicago will be more largely involved as one of the cities than the other ones. As well will Sacramento. That's kind of a little reflection on me, I live about 3 hours away from Sac.(: **

**REVIEW REVIEW! OH MY GOSH REVIEWWW!**

**Even though I have some kick ass reviewers anyways…**

**Thanks people.:)**


	24. Graceful Truths and Hospital Visits

**A/N: I don't own CSI. **

**And we're in late February now. Just a heads up. **

**Oh and thank you everyone so much for the reviews! You are all amazing! And thanks smuffly, you wonderful and consistent reviewer! Plus lotzalove, your reviews crack me up sometimes. Thanks to anyone else I missed, I love you all the same.(:**

…**.but I might love you more if you review again this chapter. **

**WELCOME TO EARLY UPDATE!**

**I feel stupid giving you this on a Sunday night, but I know I'm not going to have any time Monday night. So this is your Monday update, congrats! **

**OH MY GOD.**

**I just wrote Chapter 12 of the sequel(yes, I'm already that far ahead *smiles to self* and I want to CRRYYY.)**

**I'm sorry for all the feels.**

**Here's chapter 24. Four chapters LEFT!**

**Enjoy.(:**

"Hello?"

"I thought you used to answer with your last name," I said into the phone, sitting on the couch in the living room. "Or do you not do that because you're not a CSI anymore?"

"I am too still a CSI, Lexi. Just on extended suspension," Grace clarified, and I rolled my eyes. "Do you need something?"

"Gove told me you had a relationship with one of the gang members," I informed her. "Who are they after, in the San Diego Crime Lab?"

She sighed. "They're after Grayson. Solved a B and E 7 months ago and caught one of them, now they want revenge. He's hiding out in New York, with his parents."

"Why does everyone always want revenge?" I asked quietly, really talking more to myself than her.

"I figure you're getting your revenge by calling me and interrupting my night," she said coldly, and I smirked. "What do you need, Smith?"

"I want to know who he was and what kind of relationship you had with him," I said to her, clicking the end of my pen. "For investigative purposes."

"There is no way in hell I'm telling you that!" she said shrilly, and I clenched my jaw. "That is very private information!"

"That you know you deserve to give up," I snapped, and she was silent. "You screwed Ryan over, Grace. At least make his life a little easier and help us out with this case."

"Is he the San Diego rep?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, he is." I answered, and she paused.

"He's training to be a detective, you know," she said solemnly. "I supported his decision."

"That's good for you, Grace!" I said irritably. "Now just tell me who the guy was and what relationship you had."

"His name was Andrew Bullimer," she said. "And we didn't have a relationship. We had sex, one time."

"Little scrawny white kid?" I double checked, and she sucked in air.

"Yeah, that's him," she replied cooperatively, and I scribbled the name down. "I have his number, if that's what you were going to ask next."

"It was," I admitted, and she gave me the number. "This is a real number?"

"Yes, of course it is. I just spoke to him yesterday," she scoffed, and I frowned. "I left something at his house, we're not a couple now or anything."

"Good," I said through gritted teeth. "Maybe you are a better person than I thought."

I hung up, so infuriated that she would do something like that to Ryan. Ryan, who'd treated her like a princess their entire relationship. I looked out the window, wondering when Greg would be home on our only night off. He and Nick had taken Hodges out the bar scene for some reason, but he was an hour later than he said he would be. I refrained from calling him, trying to let him have his guy time.

Instead, I clicked on the TV, just so there wouldn't be such an eerie silence in the house. I ignored what the newswoman was saying, and thought back to how we'd made some progress on the case.

Calling Grace had been a last minute resort, but her lover boy was the one they were all calling "Drew Diddy" and was apparently higher on the food chain. I didn't even attempt to understand thug talk. All they ever did was take the "ing" off a word.

The door swung open, and I looked over. Greg stumbled in, Nick behind him. "I am really sorry, Lexi," Nick said uneasily, trying to support a falling Greg. I jumped up, holding him the best I could. "He went and drank enough for the both of us."

"I don't blame you, Nick, it's fine," I responded, looking at Greg. He seemed completely oblivious to the conversation going on about him. "What about Hodges? How'd he like the drinking chaos?"

"I don't really know," Nick answered, scratching the back of his head. "He went to a restaurant with some girl he met there."

"Maybe he'll get lucky," I said tightly, struggling to keep Greg up as he tripped over his own foot.

"I'll just…leave you to take care of that," Nick said uncomfortably, and I nodded.

"Thanks for bringing him home," I called as he shut the door. "Come on Greg, help me out here."

"I'm so tired," he mumbled, and I laughed, trying to get him up the stairs.

"Greg, remember the tiny girl trying to support the big guy?" I said as we were halfway up the stairs. "Doesn't work out."

"I am not fat!" he shouted passionately, and I smiled to myself, opening the door to our bedroom.

"No, sweetie, you're just a lot taller than me," I whispered, laying him down on the bed.

"Yeah, you are a short lady," he slurred, and I could smell the vodka on his breath. I wrinkled my nose, undoing the buttons on his shirt.

"Stop!" he cried out, and I froze. "I have a girlfriend!"

I grinned at him, finishing the last button on his shirt. "I _am_ your girlfriend, Greg."

"Oh, right. You are," he said, nodding and allowing me to slip his shirt off. "You're my girlfriend."

"Yes, Greg, you're correct," I said, pulling the covers over him before getting into bed next to him. "Now just go to sleep, okay?"

"Do you have a beer?" he asked me, and I pursed my lips, trying to hide a smile. "Do you?"

He had flipped over so his hands pinned around both sides of me. I shuddered, looking away. "Greg, just go to sleep. You really don't need anything else to drink."

"Please, Lexi," he whispered, swooping down and capturing my lips with his. I could taste the vodka and turned away from him. He moved towards my neck, but I stopped him.

"Greg. Go to sleep. Now." I demanded, sitting up and maneuvering my way around his arms. "Please."

"Ugh, Lexi!" he groaned, staring at me innocently. "Please?"

"Fine, I'll sleep on the couch," I said through gritted teeth, beginning to get out of bed. He grabbed my wrist, looking at me apologetically.

"No, I'm sorry. You can sleep here, I'll go to bed." He promised, lying down on his side of the bed. I cautiously laid back down.

"No more getting wasted with Nick, okay?" I said quietly, and he chuckled.

"Yeah, okay," he agreed. "No more strip clubs."

"What?" I hissed, sitting up quickly. "Strip clubs?"

"I'm kidding, Lexi!" he said in a hurry, looking over at me. "Go to sleep."

…

I sipped my coffee slowly, sitting in bed and enjoying the well-rested feeling while it lasted. Looking through the magazine I had bought at the store(I'm not a magazine reader- I just wanted to feel like a normal 29 year old woman when she wakes up on a Saturday.) I heard a grumbling coming from next to me. Looking over, I could see that Greg was gripping his hair tightly, rubbing his forehead.

"Must be a nasty hangover you got there," I commented casually. He looked over at me, appearing to be in pain. "I'll take that as a yes."

"How the hell did I get this?" he whined, his voice sounding slightly hoarse. I smirked, not even looking up from my magazine.

"You had a guy's night, remember?" I reminded him, and he groaned. "What? You seemed like you had fun when you got home."

"My head!" he said, pulling at his hair even more.

"Take it easy there, you'll rip your hair out," I said somewhat jokingly. He closed his eyes, laying his head down in the pillow. "How much did you drink?"

"A lot," came his muffled voice. I smiled and returned to my article about good cleaning supplies- as if I ever cleaned. We just picked up after ourselves, and I occasionally picked up a few things because I was bored. "It's all Nick's fault, he said I should calm down after a hard week at work."

"Well you didn't," I laughed, sipping at the Blue Hawaiian again. "Because you were all riled up when you got home. Oh, and thanks for making me practically carry you up the stairs."

"I'm sure I'll have to do it for you someday," was his response, and I set my coffee on the table beside my bed. I laid back down, getting as close to him as I could, and stroked his hair. "You're too good to me."

"I'm proud of you," I whispered, grinning. He tilted his head slightly, eyeing me curiously. "Don't you remember getting home last night?"

"No, Lex, I remember _nothing_." He said honestly, burying his head back down in the pillow. "What happened?"

"Well, I finally got you upstairs, after you declared that you were _not _fat," I laughed, lying my head down sideways on the pillow so I was facing him. "And when I tried to take your shirt off, you yelled at me and said you had a girlfriend."

I could see his ears turn red, and he shrugged. "I'm loyal, so what?" he said quietly, and I kissed his cheek.

"Yeah, and then you fought for sex and beer," I sighed, and he looked at me guiltily. "You got neither, Greggo."

"Figured," he mumbled, and flipped over so he was staring at the ceiling. "My head is going to explode. Please explain to everyone that you didn't kill me."

I laughed quietly, and there was a sharp ringing from Greg's bedside table "You know you're gonna have to get that," I sang, watching him groan as he blindly reached for the phone. I reached over and grabbed it, placing it in his hand.

"Sanders." He said tightly. I flipped the phone around for him, realizing he had it upside down. "Russell, I am really hung over right now. I don't think I should be going in."

There was talk from the other end, and I leaned back against the pillow, inhaling his scent that wasn't laced with vodka. "Tell Russell I can go in for you if he'll let me," I whispered suddenly to Greg. He nodded, and opened his eyes.

"What?" he exclaimed, practically jumping out of bed. I guess he found it easier to fall out though, because next thing I knew he was lying on the ground. "Oh my God, yeah, yeah, is she okay?"

I looked at him worriedly. "Is who okay?"

"Dammit!" Greg yelled into the phone, and I sat back quietly, not wanting to piss him off even more. "Russell, _is she okay?_" More talking, and Greg rolled his eyes. "I don't care if Grissom's on his way there, is she alright? Is she hurt-" he stopped talking, clearly having been interrupted. He nodded slowly, rubbing the side of his head. "Thanks."

He hung up the phone, throwing it onto the bed. "What's going on?" I asked, getting out of bed and pulling clothes out of the dresser.

"They purposely wrecked into Sara's taxi. She's in the hospital."

….

"It's not going to get much easier," I told Morgan and Finn as we sat in the waiting room. Greg had just gone in to see Sara after we had waited 2 hours for her to get out of surgery. "They know who she is now."

"I think they're all freaking crazy," Finn said, looking at the two of us and raising her eyebrows. "Tell me you agree with me here, guys. Sara and all the other CSI's that they're after were just doing their job."

"You're right," Morgan agreed, nodding. "Completely right. But I think all these guys are physcopathic morons who think everyone's out to get them."

"So they're paranoid too?" I mumbled, and Morgan rolled her eyes. "I already told Russell, no one expect them can win. But we can compromise."

"What about your phone call with Grace?" Finn asked. "How did that go?"

"I got a phone number for Drew Diddy or whatever. But that doesn't mean he's the top in their freakish chain of command, you know," I informed them, and Morgan pursed her lips.

"But he can probably get us to the guy who's top dog," she said, and I nodded. "The only problem is that he's in San Diego, searching for Grayson White."

"I've got a theory," Finn said wearily. "That maybe each of these guys that the lower ranking gang members say are higher up in the chain, well, maybe they're each in charge of finding a different person."

"What do you mean?" I asked, scrunching my eyebrows.

"Well, Drew Diddy or whatever. Maybe he's in charge of finding Grayson. And the lower ranking guys just do whatever the hell he tells them to," she suggested, and I pondered this.

"Finn, I bet you're right," I muttered, it all clicking now. "He used Grace to maybe put himself out of suspicion for the whole thing."

"But don't you notice that each city involved has had a completely different event to trigger an investigation?" Morgan asked, looking at Finn pointedly. "In San Diego, someone bombed Grayson White's car. In Denver, someone shot inside Kevin Crane's house. And here, there was a big set up shoot out."

"So then now we need to figure out who's leading the Sara hunt in Vegas," I filled in, and they both nodded. "I bet Andrew Bullimer can fill that information in. If we show up at his door with a warrant."

"For what though?" Morgan reminded me, and I smirked.

"Drugs." I answered simply, just as Greg came out of Sara's room. I stood up, and he engulfed me in a hug, squeezing me tightly and picking me up off the ground.

"Can we go?" he breathed, and I nodded.

"Yeah," I answered softly, scanning his face for anything. Just hurt, and I was surprised he was even letting me see that much. "Come on."

I waved goodbye to Morgan and Finn as they entered Sara's room next, and led Greg out of the waiting room. As soon as we were outside, he pinned me against the wall, capturing my lips instantly. Surprised, I kissed him back, but wasn't really sure why.

"If anything like that ever happens to you," he said shakily, suddenly seeming at a lack of breath. "It will kill me."

I nodded, watching him carefully. He ran a hand through his hair, looking around unsurely. "It's okay, Greg," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his waist and hugging him. "I'm alright, Sara's alright. Everyone's okay."

"That's my best friend in there," he sighed, and I nodded. "She almost died. All because some punks decided to-"

"Greg," I interrupted, now taking his hand and leading him away. "Stop thinking about it."

"You're right," he said, sounding like he was convincing himself. "Can we get a milkshake or something?"

…

"Dammit," I heard Greg mutter from in front of the mirror. Finishing the last button on my shirt, I looked at his reflection.

"Tie problems again?" I guessed with a laugh, and he nodded.

Walking over, I quickly fixed his tie, and he smiled. "What would I do without you?" he asked, and I shrugged.

"Beats me," I replied, double checking my hair and clothes.

"You look fine, Lexi," Greg reminded me, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, why do you do this every single morning? Question your looks like that?"

"Just want to appear presentable," I answered, turning and smiling at him. "Andrew Bullimer is due for his questioning today."

"And let me guess, DB asked you to bug the crap out of this guy?" Greg asked with a slight laugh, and I shrugged.

"I'm good at that part, Greg. No matter what context you put it in." I said shortly, snagging my jacket from off the bed.

"You probably won't need that," Greg said, following me down the stairs. "It's March, not December."

"I'm going to take it anyways," I responded quietly, slipping it on and pulling my hair out. I grazed my hand over my necklace and felt a smile creep onto my face. I turned around, standing in the middle of the staircase. "We gonna visit Sara today?"

"I guess," he mumbled, and I grinned. "You miss her?"

"I'm worried," I defended, and he chuckled. "But yeah."

"Well then hurry your ass up, because-" he started, but my phone interrupted him. He rolled his eyes and passed me on the staircase as I stopped to answer my phone.

"Smith." I made my way down the stairs, smirking as Greg had his head stuck in the refrigerator.

"This is Lexi Smith? One of the crime scene ladies?" a voice asked from the other end of the phone. I froze, listening carefully.

"Yes," I answered. "Who's this?"

"Dre. You're going to interview my brother Drew?" he asked seriously.

"Your mom name you guys like that on purpose?" I said lightly, rubbing my necklace.

"Not really the time to be cracking dumb jokes, lady." He snapped, and I pursed my lips. "Are you or are you not interviewing Drew today?"

"I am," I replied. "But if I could talk to you separately, that'd be great," There was a sigh on the other end. "We just want to know what you guys want so we can end this whole thing."

"Listen, I don't approve of this revenge shit," he said quickly. "But there ain't no way you gonna convince Dwayne to end all this."

"Why do you guys want revenge?" I tried. Greg looked over at me "Sara and all of the other CSI's were just doing their jobs."

"You think I don't know that?" he shouted, and I flinched at the loudness, pulling the phone away from my ear slightly. "Listen lady, I want the hell out of here. But unfortunately, that's not really an option."

"I can make it one," I promised, knowing I sounded desperate. "Just give me some information, please."

He sighed again. "If I help you coppers out, you gonna make sure Drew doesn't end up in the slammer?"

I bit my lip. "I can try my hardest, Dre."

"That's all I'm asking for. You and your lead guy, I want you to meet me behind New York New York tonight, we're gonna talk about information deals," he explained, and I grinned. "I just want Drew keeping himself out of trouble."

"I didn't know you were in Vegas," I said slyly, and the guy snorted.

"I'll see you tonight, lady."

"Yeah, bye."

I hung up, smiling broadly at Greg. "What's going on? Who's Dre?"

"Oh, just Drew Bullimer's brother. He's gonna get us some info," I said happily. "Home run for me!"

"No kidding," Greg said in awe, shutting the fridge door. "Way to go, Lex."

"And we're going to be late for work," I said casually, checking my phone. "Considering the fact that we're going to see Sara."

"You're right," he sighed, and took my hand. "But you do know that I hate hospitals, right?"

"You've only told me a million times, Greggo," I said, pecking him on the cheek. "And I couldn't agree with you more."

…

"How are you feeling?" I asked quietly, sitting next to Sara's bed. Her arm was wrapped up in a cast, and gauze covered part of her forehead. But the bruising around the left side of her face, where the car had crashed, was the worst.

"Better," she answered, taking a deep breath. "Considering I've had to make the nurses pry Gil away from my room."

Greg chuckled, shaking his head. "Typical Grissom."

"I know he's just trying to help me," she assured us. "But it's incredibly annoying to have someone by your bedside every second of the day."

"Should we leave then?" I asked nervously, and she shook her ehad.

"No," she said firmly. "New company is always nice. Any leads on the case?"

Greg and I exchanged a look of pleasure, and I nodded. "Drew Bullimer's brother, Dre, called me up 20 minutes ago. We're going to meet at New York New York, he's going to give us information."

"You sure it isn't a set up or something?" Sara reminded me, and I shook my head.

"I don't really think it is, Sara," I answered. "I mean, he just wants us to take it easier on his brother. Which is understandable, if you ask me."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding. "Drew's a piece of scum. But maybe Dre isn't, if he wants to help him out."

"And he told me he wants out of the whole thing, that he doesn't approve of it at all," I added, and she nodded slowly. "I really think you should go back to wherever you were before this, Sara."

"Wouldn't you like that?" she laughed, raising her eyebrows. "I'm not going anywhere. I need to stay here and watch these gang bangers get their karma."

"How are they going to get their karma, Sar?" Greg asked, leaning back in his chair and awaiting a good explanation.

"They…they just are, don't ask me how," she said unsurely, and I patted her hand.

"Maybe you should get some rest," I suggested quietly, and she rolled her eyes. "What? You just seem…tired, is all."

"That's all I've been hearing for the past day, Lexi," she said irritably. "'You should sleep, you should get some rest'. I'm so sick of it, I'm fine."

I nodded slowly, looking at Greg for help. "Sara, no need to snap at Lexi. She just cares about you. We all do."

Sara closed her eyes and nodded. "Sorry Lexi," she apologized, stressfully running a hand through her hair. "I'm just…worried. I don't want any of the other CSI's from different cities to get hurt."

"I don't know about the others…but Grayson White took off to New York to be with his parents. Everyone's going to be fine, Sara." I promised, patting her hand awkwardly.

"MOVE! EVERYONE MOVE!" a voice screamed, and I could hear wheels rolling down the hallway. I stood up slowly, sticking my head out the door. They were wheeling a stretcher over towards the surgery room. I watched as they rolled it past me, and felt my heart stop.

I knew the guy on the stretcher.

It was Hodges.

**A/N: So happy I got this chapter done. Was kind of hard.**

**So this chapter, we talked with Grace, got the whole story from her. And we are slowly but surely almost reaching the answer to the gang bangers. I promise!**

**Bahaha drunk Greg:D Was such a fun little scene to write.(:**

**Anyways, I hope you're all enjoying these later 4 chapters as we grow closer to the end.:(**

**REVIEW REVIEW REWIEWWW! I LOVE YOUUU! ONLY IFF YOU DOO!**

**^^that rhymed. Fuck yeah for rhyming.**

**Thanks everyone.(:**


	25. Hello and Goodbye

**Disclaimer: Don't own CSI.**

"What the hell is going on?" I growled, marching into the waiting room. DB and Nick were talking quickly with a receptionist, and Morgan was on the phone with someone.

"There was an accident," Nick filled me in, craning his neck so he could see where they were continuing to wheel him further away. "We were at a scene, he tagged along because Trace was running slow today. They got the guy, Lexi."

"I am so fucking tired of everyone getting hurt!" I seethed, clenching my hands into fists. "I have never dealt with a crime lab that had so many people get hurt! Greg, Sara, now Hodges!"

"Hey, calm down," Nick warned, and I rolled my eyes. "No one likes it either."

"Well no one _does _anything, Nick!" I screamed, poking a finger in his chest. "I don't know if you've maybe been drunk the past 4 months, but everyone just gets hurt and-"

I was cut off by someone leading me away quickly. I pushed them off, looking around to see I was in the hallway. I glared up at Greg, who was crossing his arms. "You can't say stuff like that. And it's not Nick's fault," he said quietly, and I scoffed.

"Wasn't he supposed to make sure they cleared the freaking scene?" I shouted, and Greg reached out to take my hand. I stepped back though. "Don't even try Greg. I'm thoroughly pissed and kissing me isn't going to take that away."

He stared at me blankly before sighing. "I think you need some fresh air."

I rolled my eyes and took off down the hallway, heading for the staircase. I don't think I'd ever felt so much rage inside of me since my mother had blown up on me. I was sick of everyone getting hurt. We were criminalists, not cops. And even cops didn't get hurt to the amount that everyone else-

"Yo, Smith," a voice called, and I looked up from where I was halfway down the staircase. And standing in front of me, a skinny kid with baggy jeans and backwards hat stood crossing his arms. "We spoke on the phone earlier."

"Yes," I remembered, nodding. "You're Dre Bullimer."

"Correct," he answered, and paused. "That your boy up in there?"

"With the gunshot wound? Yes," I replied, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "Why?"

"I got some information for you about that," he said quietly, and motioned for me to walk with him. I felt to make sure my gun was with me, and he chuckled. "I ain't gonna kill you, now hurry up."

"O-Okay," I stuttered, and walked quickly over to where he was leaving the hospital. "Sorry for being stereotypical, it's just that-"

"I look like a no good thug, believe me lady, I get it," he said with a small smile. "I hear it all the time."

"What information do you have?" I asked wearily, running a hand through my hair.

"There is a way to compromise," he told me seriously. "The price might be high, but it's doable."

"How- how did you know I would be here?" I asked quietly, and he smirked. "We had agreed to meet up elsewhere."

"I heard shots from your buddies scene down the street. I followed them here, figured you'd be with em," he pursed his lips and pondered the thought of something. "You remind me of my little sister, Lilly. She was kind of an angry person like you."

"I'm not an angry person," I pointed out. "I'm angry at the situation. Because of your little hoodrat buddies, two of my friends are in the flipping hospital."

"Look, they're not my buddies, they're not my friends. I have nothing to do with them besides transport information between the two of you." He said firmly, and I glanced over at him.

"Did Lilly ever scream at her friends for something that's not even their fault?" I muttered so quietly I barely heard it myself. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and still walking at the same time. The street lights made it apparent how much he looked like Drew, same pale with skin and blonde hair.

"Lilly's a rough girl," he decided, pursing his lips. "She gets in fights, she makes people wish they were dead. And she is very good at standing up for herself and what she thinks is right."

"Good qualities," I mumbled, and he chuckled. "The last ones."

"Yeah, they are," he agreed, nodding. "Lilly's my baby sister, I've had to take care of her our whole lives. And when she turned 18, she ran off to college on a full scholarship with track."

"You're really more educated than you let off, Dre," I said distantly. "Why choose to appear as a thug?"

He shrugged. "You wanna know the compromise? That way you can get back to your little crime solving homies?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Of course I want to know. So spill."

"I don't know the details," he warned. "But I do know that it's money. And they want some of their dudes let off the chain. I'm assuming a reduced sentence or something."

I sighed. "The only times sentences are reduced or an inmate is let out early is either good behavior or they make a deal with the cops. All of their people haven't done that nor upheld appropriate behavior."

"You read their files daily or something?" he asked, sounding slightly impressed. "I wouldn't even know that shit."

"Yeah, you probably wouldn't," I mused, and bit my lip. "You got a phone number for me?"

"Yeah," he answered, and stuck his hand down into his baggy jeans pocket. "I made sure they understood that you were willing to do all sorts of shit to get them to leave your people alone."

"Dre," I said, clenching my jaw. "Why…why did they shoot my friend? He's a lab technician, he's rarely in the field, though he has been on the occasions that they shoot at us, oddly enough."

"Honestly?" he said, looking around. "I don't have a clue. They may have thought he was dating their girl or something. Or he could have been shot on accident, maybe they were aiming for someone else."

"Mhm," I hummed, playing with the ends of my hair. "But I can't figure out why they're so dead set on getting their revenge."

"Gangsters are like they were back in the olden days," he said, seeming to think. "You're dealing with a case of badass wannabe gangsters. Real gangsters don't screw with this type of shit, they avoid the coppers as much as they can."

"But wannabe's always pick fights whenever they get a chance," I filled in, and he nodded. "Thanks, Dre. For the number, and for helping me out."

"Hey, you're welcome," he said, and patted my shoulder. "You let me know if you get into any trouble around the hood, Smith. Little girl like you shouldn't be walking around those parts."

"I have a gun," I scoffed, and he raised an eyebrow. "And I have fantastic aim."

"Well a gun ain't no substitute for knowledge." was all he said, before walking down the alley. I stared at his retreating figure for a moment before turning around and walking away myself, wanting nothing more than to be with my team and apologize.

I hurried through the alley, back inside the hospital. The sterile smell revisited me, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste. I hauled ass up the stairs, hoping there had been some news on what they were going to do about Hodges.

"…he'd better be okay, Morgan," a voice hissed as I entered the waiting room. I looked to a back corner where Morgan was speaking with an older woman. I looked around, and spotting Greg, sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry," I said bluntly, and he turned to look at me. "For being a bitch."

He chuckled and held my hand, rubbing over the top of my knuckles. "It's alright, Lex. I felt the same way at first. It's not incredibly unusual for CSI's to get put in the line of danger, but not usually in such consecutive occurrences."

"Big words," I murmured, leaning my head on his shoulder in a peaceful silence. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, stroking my hair. "I don't exactly think you owe me the apology, Lex."

"Greg," I whined, and I felt his body shake in laughter. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," he responded, squeezing my hand. "Now hurry up, he's in Sara's room."

"Was there…was there an update on Hodges?" I asked quietly, and he bit the inside of his cheek. "I'll take as a no."

"Sorry," he said guiltily, and I smiled. "Maybe soon though."

"I'll be back!" I said dramatically, hurrying away into Sara's room and right past the receptionist, who held her hand up to stop me but put it down when I flashed my card at her.

"…and I bet he'll be fine, Sar." Nick was saying, him and DB flocked on either side of her bed. I cleared my throat awkwardly, leaning against the door frame.

They all looked up at me, and I fidgeted with my fingers nervously. "I just wanted to apologize for blowing up earlier. Hodges just kind of…put me over the edges," I explained, and looked up at the ceiling. "If you guys are willing to forgive me, I think I may have a possible solution to our problems."

DB and Nick exchanged a glance. "It's fine, Lexi," DB finally answered, and Nick nodded. "Things get emotional. It's all part of the job."

"And a solution does sound nice," Nick muttered, and motioned to Sara. "This happening all the time is exhausting."

"Yes," I agreed, and pulled the number out of my pocket. "We're going to need a negotiator."

….

"Is this Mr. Horace Malcom?" Trevor, our negotiator, read off calmly. There was a loud laughing in the background as we sat in one of the interrogation rooms, everyone gathered around the table.

"Little bitch used my real name!" a guy cackled, and I rolled my eyes.

"So I'm assuming that I'm speaking with Horace Malcolm?" he asked again, and the laughing died down.

"Depends what about," the guy answered rudely. "I done paid all my taxes."

"That isn't the concern, Mr. Malcom," Trevor clarified. "We are calling about your gang's targeting of the seven CSI's from around the country."

"Didn't I tell you they'd find our number and call, Diddy?" Malcolm asked someone, laughing hysterically. "Yes, we are involved in that. We've got big plans."

I gritted my teeth at the sound of joy in his voice. "I have been told there is a possibility of compromise, Mr. Malcolm."

"Can't _stand _these bitches!" Malcolm exclaimed. "Call em M, okay?"

"Yes, okay, M," Trevor agreed, appearing irritated. "I have called to discuss compromise."

I squeezed Greg's hand in hopefulness. "They wanna meet in the middle, Diddy," Malcolm sighed. "How did you find out about this?"

"A CSI was given information, M." Trevor replied coolly.

"Who was it? And who gave it to em?"

I felt eyes fall on me, and I hesitantly motioned for Trevor to speak. "The CSI is Lexi Smith, she was in contact with Dre Bullimer."

"I knew that punk was a snitch," a voice in the background said, but Malcolm shushed him.

"Yeah, we wanna figure something out with ya'll. Don't get me wrong, I love killing off members of your high society law enforcement shit," he said, and paused momentarily. "But I think there comes a time when you have to say that enough is enough."

"I agree, M," Trevor said smoothly, not even skipping a beat. "What's your price?"

"You're gonna let my boys go," Malcolm answered, and I cringed, knowing that that was what he'd ask for. I laid my head onto Greg's shoulder in defeat, my eyes drifting to what Brass would say.

"We can't let all of them go, M," Brass spoke up. "What about money?"

"I can always use a little extra cash," he considered, and sighed. "But I want my boys. Sorry."

"Tell you what, how bout you get both? A little bit of many and a few boys?" Brass asked, and there was a long pause. I held my breath, awaiting an answer.

"We pick what boys we want," he replied coldly, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "And if there are any unspoken attatchments, you can bet your ass we'll kill her."

"No unspoken attachments, M," Trevor promised, and I listened to Greg's heartbeat. "How much money are we talking?"

"I don't need much. I'm wealthy now, with all the money I've received through drugs and stuff." He chuckled pointedly. "All the drugs you never caught anyone for. What great cops you are."

"A price, M." Trevor reminded him, and Malcolm gave a dramatic sigh.

"I'll let you know." He said shortly, and the phone hung up. Greg began to stand up with everyone else, pulling me up with him. I stumbled sleepily, knowing that I had been deprived of that the last 28 hours straight.

"I'm taking Lexi home to sleep," Greg called out, and I shook my head.

"I'm perfectly fine," I mumbled, my drooping eyelids not really helping. I tore away from Greg, only to run straight into the wall.

"Drunk or tired?" Nick asked playfully as Greg helped me up from the ground.

"Neither!" I insisted dryly. Greg rolled his eyes and led me away.

"Come on, sleepy head," he murmured in my ear as we got into his Denali. "You need some rest."

"Not tired," I said lamely, and he chuckled as he drove out of the parking garage. "Are we almost home?"

He sighed and glanced over at me. "Lex, I do love you, but you need to get more sleep."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I grumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.

He didn't answer, and the rest of the drive was in silence. The minute our car stopped in the driveway, I flung the door open, jumping out quickly and nearly falling. I tried to keep balance as I walked up the door, Greg hurrying to make sure I didn't trip. "Come on, we're almost to bed."

"Need to change," I managed to slur out, gripping onto the staircase railing. "Not sleeping in clothes."

"Just…come on," he said, taking a deep breath and opening the door to our room. He laid me down on the bed, and I wanted to swoon at the comfort. "You still wanna change?"

"T shirt and shorts in drawer," I called out to him loudly, and I heard a drawer opening. "I want the pink shirt."

"Is this my payback for you dragging me up here the other night?" he asked under his breath.

"I'm not drunk, there's a difference." I reminded him, and he sat down on the bed next to me.

"Here, Lex," he said, handing me clothes. "Got the pink shirt and all."

"Oh good," I replied, ripping my shirt and bra off, not really thinking and throwing them onto the ground. I slipped the pink shirt on, catching Greg's gaping gaze. "Close your mouth."

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling off his own shirt and pants, climbing into bed next to me. "You're just so-"

"I'm tired," I interrupted, and could hear his laugh distantly. He leaned over and kissed my cheek softly. I think I went to turn around and face him, but darkness crowded me as I fell asleep.

….

"Glad to see that someone's back and awake," Russell commented as I walked into the break room. I smiled to myself as I poured my coffee, comfortably settling into a chair. "Hodges woke up this morning."

"He did?" I asked in surprise, and DB nodded. "Well unfortunately, no one even gave me an update on his health."

"It was…close," he said stiffly, and I raised an eyebrow. "Bullet was 6 inches away from his heart, another 5 and he'd be dead."

"God, have they called back yet?" I groaned, taking a moment to sip my coffee.

"No," DB responded dully. "It's like they're avoiding us."

"Or they're thinking," I said hopefully, and he seemed to consider this.

"Lexi, there's a 419 that Ecklie wants us to hurry up and go to," Greg said breathlessly as he entered the break room. I looked at Russell, who just shrugged.

"Ecklie's handing out assignments now?" I questioned, standing up and taking my coffee with me.

"I need a break too!" he defended as I went with Greg out of the break room.

"Don't worry, we get it!" I called back, heading for the locker room with Greg. Entering the room, I froze on the spot. Looking in front of me, I could see none other than Derek Runnels, my former Supervisor and current Supervisor of the Denver Crime Lab, standing with a stethoscope right next to Greg's locker.

"What the hell are you doing?" Greg asked bluntly, and the short and plump man froze. "Yes, I'm talking to you. And you're in a crime lab, so you're busted for this anyways."

He sighed deflatedly. "I was breaking into your locker, yes, Mr. Sanders."

"Way to admit it, Runnells," I snorted, heading for my own locker. "I think that gives you a class D Felony for theft, correct? Since you stole my vest?"

"I did it to make it a little lighthearted around here," he muttered disappointedly, and I laughed to myself. "What are you laughing at, Smith?"

"The fact that you thought you could get away with this," I said, pointing to Greg's locker. "When there are a hundred CSI's and even lab rights staying with our crime lab at the moment."

"Are you really gonna press charges, Smith?" he asked me seriously, and I shrugged. "Would you really do that to your old Supervisor?"

"Ah, yes, I would," I clarified, smirking over at an amused Greg. "Not today though, Runnells. Give me my stuff back."

He reached into his briefcase and pulled out my gun and vest, handing them to me. "And here we though Lexi's locker had been a crime scene," Greg said, pointing to Derek's gloves. "Which would explain why we couldn't get prints off the locker."

"Yes, it would," he said with a clenched jaw, watching as I zipped my vest up and fastened my old gun in its holster. "You guys off to a case, Smith?"

"Yeah, we are," I answered smoothly, walking out the door with Greg. He took my hand unnoticeably and led me down the hall. As soon as we were outside of the crime lab and even past Judy's wandering eye, he turned me around and shoved me against a wall.

"You do know that I love you, right?" he chuckled, his mint scented breath hitting my face. I blushed and nodded, reaching up to kiss him softly on the lips.

"What part of 'lay off the PDA' do you not understand, Smith?" a voice barked, and I jumped, hitting Greg's forehead. We both laughed nervously and turned to face an irritated Ecklie. "Couldn't even wait until you got to the car?"

"I…guess not?" I tried, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Sorry, Ecklie. Won't happen again."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he grumbled, and I started walking towards the parking lot again, Greg right beside me. The silence between us was comfortable as I sat in the passengers seat, fumbling with the seatbelt once again.

"Damn this!" I cried out in frustration as Greg drove down the road. "You need a new freaking seatbelt!"

"Sorry," Greg said half-heartedly, and I rolled my eyes. "You wanna go see Hodges after this scene? I figured if we stopped by for a little while it wouldn't hurt."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," I said, leaning back in my seat. "Where is our scene, anyways?"

"Well, Nick's meeting us there," he informed me. "But we're heading to the hood."

I watched as he involuntarily shuddered for a moment, and I placed a hand on his arm. "You hate the hood?"

"When I first got hired on as CSI, and we had this case in the hood, we were shot at. Then we found a child whose body had been shoved in a plastic container after he was starved to death." He said angrily, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

"Going to assume that you really don't like it then," I suggested, and he nodded. "Yeah, I hated the ghetto in San Diego. Of course it was really more a beach hermit hangout, but still. They had their trashy gangbangers."

"I just…I guess I never understood how someone could treat a kid that way," he explained, taking a turn. "Why would you even starve a person to death, let alone a kid?"

"Only if you were a sick bastard," I answered, and he smirked. "It's true. Whenever we had child abuse cases in Phoenix, it always struck a cord with my friend Emerie. She could always sniff out the bad ones."

"And it never bothered you?" he asked in disbelief. "With a past like your own, you remained neutral?"

"I never said that," I reminded him. "It didn't hit me as hard as Emerie, she loved kids more than I did. As I've said, kids hate me."

"Our kids won't," he promised, parking the car in front of the caution tape. I turned and looked at him as he switched the car off. "What?"

"You just…know what to say," I mused, and he grinned.

We both stepped out of the car, kits in hand, and approached the crime scene. Lying face down was a white male, and Dave was checking him over. "Greg, help me roll him?"

"Yeah," Greg said, and set his kit down. He and David carefully rolled the man over, and for what seemed like the 50th time that week, my breath caught.

I knew the man lying on the ground.

And it was Dre Bullimer.

**A/N: 3 chapters left. Wtf.**

**Sorry for the short chapter, I just felt like I should end it there. You understand, right? No, of course you don't, you just hate me for ending it early. Yeahh, I get it.**

**So what did we think of Dre, even though I just now killed him off? I thought it was good for Lexi to connect to him momentarily and he was a good way to get an information source.**

**Sleepy Lexi? Hehe that part was fun to write!:) I thought we might need some humor in the grave light I have shone onto this story!**

**HODGESSS! MY BABY! **

**He'll be okay, and we're going to visit him next chapter, get the whole scoop! Hold you horses people, I will tie all knots together in the end! Gahh! **

…**I just like having loose laces until the very last minute.:)**

**Once again apologizing for the short chapter. :/**

**But…**

**REVIEW! REVIEW!**

**Thanks readers and reviewers alike, you all rock!:)**


	26. All Comes Crashing Down

**A/N: I don't own CSI(:**

"Oh God," I muttered, my eyes glued to his pale and lifeless face. "Greg, I need to take a walk."

He looked up from where he was already taking pictures and raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Will be," I answered tightly, walking down the alley and blinking. I gripped my holster, still unsure of where I was going. I didn't care, I needed to get away from the dead body.

There was a snickering noise from down the alley a little, and I heard someone whistle. I looked up, narrowing my eyes at the shadows of the men standing down there. "Yo, princess!"

The familiarity in the voice struck a chord, and without thinking, I started walking towards them. I pulled my flashlight out, clicking it on and shining it on their faces. Three guys, two black and one white, were leaning against a grimy wall. I instantly recognized the white guy as Drew Bullimer, and felt sick to my stomach. "Horace Malcolm."

"Hey, we got the little girl that was screwing around with Dre!" he yelled loudly, and I could practically hear the vodka in his throat. I rolled my eyes.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about. And shut up before I have you arrested for a drunk in public," I snapped, and he sobered up. "You killed Dre."

"Naw, girl, I ain't wantin _nothing _to do with the fuck up," he said seriously, and I gritted my teeth.

"Watch your language, crotch mouth," I growled, and he chuckled, hitting his buddies arms knowingly. "Why'd you kill him?"

"You ever heard that sayin, snitches get stitches?" Drew Bullimer laughed, nudging at his buddies still. "Well, he got what he deserved."

"Shut the hell up!" I shrieked, shoving the skinny kid into the wall roughly, gripping his tank top so hard my knuckles turned white. "He did everything for you! He snitched to get you out of the slammer, you son of a bitch!"

He looked surprised and just stood there, staring at me with wide eyes. Before I could continue my rant, someone pulled me off of him. I tried to kick my way free, but they were too strong for me. "Lexi, calm down."

I recognized the voice and relaxed in Nick's tight grip, and he set me to the side. "Sorry," I breathed, wiping a slight tear that I had produced in a mixture of fear and anger. "He just-"

"You're Horace Malcolm?" Nick continued, interrupting and ignoring me altogether. Malcolm nodded shortly, crossing his arms and looking between Nick and I. "Were you gonna call us back anytime soon?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he sneered, his buddy laughing. Drew just stood stock still, staring at the ground.

"You've put everyone through enough hell, name your price," Nick said angrily, and I stepped forward, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Come on."

The motion I saw out of the corner of my eye was so quick I almost didn't catch it, but I quickly pulled my own gun and pointed it at the gang banger, who hadn't even clicked his safety off yet. He stopped and stared at me. "Don't even."

"And what if he does, bitch?" Malcolm challenged, and I sighed. "What if he just wipes you and your buddies out? He's probably one of my best shooters, besides the ones you mother fuckers shot up!"

"They shot first," I yelled wearily. Nick had now put his hands up, backing away to behind me slowly. "Put the gun down before you get yourself hurt."

He glanced at Malcolm, who motioned for him to set it down. He did, and looked up at me. "Against the wall, all of you."

Nick's words sunk in as they hit the wall. "I'll go get the uniforms," I mumbled, handing him my gun and walking back down the alley, a headache now forming. Dre dead, the leader in jail. Didn't really spell out victory. "I need 6 uniforms down in the alley. Now." I told Brass quickly, and he immediately motioned for them to hurry up and get down there.

"What's going on?" Greg asked, looking uncomfortable as he walked towards me. "Lex?"

"Horace Malcolm, Drew Bullimer, and his little minion, Diddy. All of them are down there," I informed him shakily, walking towards Dre's body. "Did you get all the shots of the body, Greg?"

"Yeah, you want to get the surrounding scene?" he offered, and I nodded, picking up my camera. "What, uh, what happened back there, Lex?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but someone's strangled yells interrupted me. "Damn bitch attacked my brother! Arrest her, not me! You hear me?"

I inwardly cringed at the sound of Malcolm screaming at the cop. Greg looked over at him, then back at me. They dragged Drew Bullimer out next, and Greg looked between him and Dre. "Oh God, Lex, what did you do?"

"It was no big deal," I answered quietly, and he took another step towards me, sliding underneath the tape that surrounded the body. "Promise."

"You're lying," he hissed, and I felt guilt consume me. "What's he talking about?"

"Lexi!" Nick's voice barked, and the moment felt all too realistic, all too overwhelming. "Dammit, that's going to alter the case!"

Greg's hands wrapped around my arms so tightly that a part of me flew back to when I was 12 and my dad did the same thing. The shaking sensation sent me even further back into my memories, of when Dad threw me into a wall. "Lexi!"

Greg's rough tone put me so far back, and I felt as if I could not return to the current situation. I could only stare into his brown eyes, now angry and confused , holding half of the emotions my fathers had. Memories flashed by, Dad hitting mom, Dad hitting me, Dad taking another swig of beer.

"Can you even hear us?" Nick's voice yelled. It was too much, there was too much yelling, too much screaming.

I tried to pull away from the solid grip around my arms, but got nowhere. Greg's face had shifted into my Dad's, he wasn't letting me go. _Not again, last time the bruising took mom an hour to cover up, _I thought, knowing the words mere memories of my ideals at age 12.

"Let go, Dad." I whispered, the words slipping out faster than I had ever wanted them to. The grip on my arm released immediately, and I stumbled backwards into the wall. Everything around me became clear, and I could now see Greg and Nick staring at me.

"What?" Nick asked bluntly, and I blinked, hoping the current moment would blink away with it. My cheeks burned bright red in embarrassment for my unexplainable action.

"Come on, Lex," Greg whispered back so quietly I hardly heard them, and he gently led me away from the angry and confused Nick. I didn't really quite understand where Greg was taking me as he placed a careful arm around my waist, but I soon found myself leaning against the back of the Denali. "I'm so sorry."

"It's my fault," I swore, looking him in the eye. "I guess it just triggered some memories, was all."

"I'm such an ass," Greg breathed, and I shook my head. "Yes, I am, Lexi. I can't believe I just touched you like that…I didn't mean to, I just couldn't get an answer and-"

"And it's completely my fault, Greg," I interrupted loudly, and he sighed. "I shouldn't have thrown Drew Bullimer into the wall. I couldn't help myself, they killed Dre after he snitched just to get his own brother out of the slammer."

Greg sighed, leaning his forehead onto mine gently so we were inches apart. "You know that's going to alter the case," he muttered quietly, not blinking for a moment. "The defense will have a field day with that one."

"I know," I agreed. "I wasn't thinking straight, I should have just got the uniforms down there."

"Smith!" a familiar voice yelled. I turned around, only to see Ryan looking irate and furious, a mask he hardly even wore. "What the hell were you thinking?"

He was marching towards us, and I pulled away from Greg smoothly so he didn't complain about that too. "I wasn't, Ryan."

"You could have gotten either you or Stokes killed!" he ranted, and I just blinked. "You could lose your job for pulling a stunt like that!"

"She already said she made a mistake, Houghton," Greg growled in my defense, standing slightly in front of me. "What more do you want?"

"Well I _was_ wanting Grayson to stop being hunted down, but apparently that's too much to ask for!" he shouted, and I didn't reply. I couldn't find the rights words to apologize for what I had just done. "You've ruined everything! Not just for Grayson, but for Sara Sidle and every other CSI that's being chased around right now. Doesn't that make you feel guilty?"

"Evidence will get him convicted, regardless of Lexi's actions," Greg spoke up, raising an eyebrow at Ryan. "Don't you agree?"

"Stay out of this, Sanders," he grumbled, and I stepped in front of Greg.

"Shut up, Ryan," I said defiantly. "I've already admitted that what I did was wrong and it was out of spite and anger. I feel guilty, but you and I both know that I can't turn back time and change everything. After all these years of being my friend, you're going to turn on me because of one mistake?"

He seemed to think for a moment before biting the inside of his cheek and glancing away. "I just wish you hadn't screwed up, Lexi."

"Understandable," I credited him. "I do too. But you don't have to be a jerk about it."

"Sorry," he mumbled, and I reached out and hugged him. He hugged me back lightly, and I pulled away.

"I'm really sorry to hear about Grace being an idiot," I said sincerely, and he frowned. "If it makes you feel any better, I gave her hell for it."

"Why does that not surprise me?" he chuckled, and I grinned. "It's alright though, I'm getting out of the CSI business anyways."

"Oh are you?" I asked, stepping away from him and back to where Greg instantly grabbed my hand.

"In the process of training to be a detective," he said with a shrug, and I smiled. "Need to get away from Grace."

"So where are you transferring to?" I asked, and he grinned.

"Hopefully Vegas," he replied, and I fought to not let out a squeal. "They need a replacement for Vega, you know."

"That's great!" I said enthusiastically, and he stuffed his hands inside his suit pocket.

"It's pretty cold for March in Vegas," he said casually. "You guys wanna get a coffee or something?"

"We need to finish the scene here," Greg said quietly, rubbing my hand together with his so I stayed warm. "Maybe some other time."

"Yeah," I sighed in sad agreeance. "See you later, Ryan."

"Yeah, see you later, Lex," he muttered, walking away from us. I started walking back towards the body of Dre, Greg right behind me.

"I'll never understand you two," he laughed, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "Fight at each other ruthlessly then ask each other out for coffee."

"We're friends," I answered simply, and he shrugged. "You and I would probably do that same thing, Greggo."

….

"We're here to see David Hodges," I told the receptionist. "And then Sara Sidle."

"Two different rooms and isolated events," she read from her computer screen. "All your friends get hurt constantly?"

"Sometimes," I replied, and she smiled. "Has he woken up?"

"Ugh, yes," she groaned, and handed Greg and I a pass. "He won't shut up about seeing his mother, who only visited when he was taken into surgery. You'll have to ask him why she hasn't showed up."

"Yeah, thanks," I said shortly, walking past her desk and reading the labels above doors in search for his room.

"Hey, Lex," Greg said, stopping me. "I'm gonna go hang out with Sara for a little bit, okay? I'll be in there in a while."

"Take your time," I said casually, shrugging and continuing my walk down the hall without Greg. I finally found his room, and I sighed in relief to see that he was asleep. I took my seat next to his bed, looking around the room. He had two vases full of flowers next to it, and I flipped up the card. Both were from someone named Stacy, and I grinned.

"That's personal," he grumbled, forcing me to jump in surprise. He smirked and rubbed his eyes, sitting up in bed. "About time you came and saw me."

"Sorry, things have been crazy," I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "How are you holding up?"

"Three days left," he answered irritably, and glanced over at the vases in nervousness. "What about you? How are_ you_ holding up?"

"Well," I said wearily. "Screwed things up a few days ago with your shooter's gang."

"How'd you manage to do that?" he laughed, and I rubbed my temples.

"Threw him into a wall because he was bad-mouthing the guy who gave us information," I said, and Hodges scrunched his eyebrows. "They killed him."

"Oh, I see," he answered quietly, nodding. "So they're even farther away from fixing this mess?"

"Way to make me feel better," I muttered, and he chuckled. "But yes, you're correct."

"You think if you killed their little dictator, then it would all end?" he suggested, and I bit my lip. "Like a fort falling down because you took the pillars out from underneath it."

"You ever build a fort with _pillars_?" I asked him, and he laughed.

"No, not the building type, if no one around here has noticed," he said, and I glanced over at his tulips.

"Who sent these?' I asked suggestively, touching them gently. "Actually, I already know that. But who's Stacy?"

He blushed on cue and I grinned victoriously. "Stacy is a woman I met at a bar with your boyfriend and Nick," he replied curtly, and I beamed. "We're just friends."

"For now!" I sang, and he rolled his eyes. "Hodges and Stacy, sitting in a tree-"

"You are so incredibly immature and juvenile," he interrupted, and I clapped my hands together happily. "Really."

"You know, Hodges," I said casually, looking away from the flowers and back at him. "Everyone says you had a little bit of a crush on me when I first started working at the crime lab."

"Nonsense," he scoffed, and I raised a single eyebrow questioningly. "I had said you were smart, that is all."

I grinned and patted his hand. "Where's your mother been? The nurse said she only came once, and I know how close the two of you are."

"Oh," he said uneasily. "Well, I told her to go ahead and take her trip to Hawaii, didn't want her to stick around and wait on me."

"Then why do you keep asking where she is?" I asked, folding my arms so I was comfortable.

"I say that stuff in my sleep, I'm completely incoherent. How's Henry holding up having to run Trace _and _Tox?" he asked, changing the subject.

"He's actually holding up very well," I assured him. "But he wishes you were back."

"That makes one person," he sighed, and I shook my head.

"No, we all want you back. _Even _me." I promised him, and he chuckled. "So, do you really remember much? I know Brass took your statement and everything, but-"

"There's only one thing that I remember before blacking out," he said hesitantly. "At the time I figured it to be random, now it worries me. They were screaming at each other, yelling something like boyfriend. Those were the only words I could really make out."

"Dre was right," I whispered to no one.

"What?" Hodges asked, and I look up at him.

"Dre had thought they were after you because they thought you were Sara's boyfriend or something," I filled him in, standing up.

"Who's Dre?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"Oh, some dead guy that helped us. See you later, Hodges!" I called, rushing down the hallways to find Greg.

I knew how to make the compromise.

Even if they were in prison.

….

"Are you sure about this, Smith?" Ecklie asked me as we walked down the hallway of the jail.

"As sure as I can be," I said in response, stopping at the correct cell number for Malcolm.

"Nice to see you again," he said gruffly, and I rolled my eyes. "What do you need now? You busted me for drunk in public and possession of drugs."

"You forgot illegal possession of a gun," I reminded him, and he laughed. "I know what you want to compromise."

"Oh, you do?" he chuckled, and laid back down on his bed. "What is that?"

"You want your son back," I said boldly, and his entire body tensed up, "You didn't tell us you had one, but I did my research. You were hesitant to shoot my friend Hodges because you didn't want to leave Sara stranded with a kid."

"You just made it seem like you wanted to kill her," Ecklie snapped from next to me. "You never wanted to kill her, but you wanted her to think you did."

He sat up again slowly, and ran a hand through his hair. "Well done, you two."

"So what's the compromise?" I asked finally, placing my hands on my hips. "You want your son back? Because he can't live with you in prison."

"I already told you comprise wasn't an option," he reminded me, and I remained silent. "There's nothing that can take away the great feeling of revenge."

"You make me sick," I said honestly, and he shrugged. "How are you and your boys gonna carry out your little plot from a prison cell?"

"There is no more plot," he said simply, and my eyes widened. "The deed is done."

"What are you talking about?" I asked frantically, looking at Ecklie. "What deed?"

"In about 3 minutes the entire Desert Palm will catch on fire," he said happily, rubbing his hands together. "And what do you know, the point of origin will be on the second floor, taking both of your little friends down."

"Oh my God," I muttered, walking down the hallway and wanting to hit something at the weight on my chest.

"Hey, that's not all!" he called after me, and I stopped in my tracks. "Ain't your boyfriend in there too?"

….

Leaping out of the Denali, my eyes flew around the giant fire that had engulfed Desert Palm. Even if we had sent out warning for everyone to get the hell out of there, it hadn't been quite enough. I ran underneath the tape that they had restricting citizens, heading straight for the building. Nurses were fleeing, helping out as many people as they could at a time. I coughed immediately, the smoke working its sadistic magic on my lungs.

"Ma'am get back," I heard a firefighter say in the distance, but I continued to run up the stairs to the second floor, taking two stairs at a time. I had to get to Greg. And Hodges. And Sara.

Reaching the second floor, the bright lights of the fire nearly blinded my vision. Orange was all I could see, and puffs of black smoke poured out of a hole in the wall. I fumbled around, carefully avoiding the harmful heat that had already tried to attach itself to me once before. I spotted the nurses, fighting to help Sara out of her bed. I quickly tried to jump in and help them, but they shoved me away in a hurry as they placed her in a wheelchair, one of them taking off down the stairs. I winced knowing that it couldn't feel the best for Sara, but at least she was getting out of there.

I could hear some people yelling for help down the hallways, but the voices were muffled over the crackling fire. In movies and on camping trips, the crackling had always provided a certain comfort to me, as if to say there was always warmth. But in that moment, I wished it had never existed.

I spotted Hodges and Greg almost instantly. Hodges was buttoning his pants, which I fought the urge to turn away upon realizing that leaving in a flowing hospital gown with flammable sterile supplies on it wasn't a great idea. Greg was handing Hodges a shirt, and I seized his arm as soon as I could.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted, and I pushed him in front of me. "Lexi, answer me!"

"Get Hodges out of here!" I yelled, watching his distraught face with a piece of my heart breaking. "I'm right behind you!"

"I'm not leaving, don't even try!" he shouted, and I shoved Hodges towards him.

"Yes, you are!" I screamed, and he hesitantly took Hodges and left. I watched them momentarily before turning around at the sound of screaming. I followed the noise, trying to block out the fire.

"Help!" someone cried, and I knew I had heard it this time. I immediately ran towards it, where it was coming from down the hall.

My breath stuck in my throat when I saw Morgan and Ryan, Morgan holding a young girl in her arms. My heart broke upon realizing it was Eliza Monroe, and Ryan was holding the hand of Samantha. "What the hell's going on?" I screeched as I helped them out of the burning room. Eliza let out a weak cough, and I continued to hurry.

"He had them, he was planning on putting them in here!" she said loudly, pointing back to an unconscious man. My heart dropped when I could see the face of Diddy, Malcolm's minion. I chose not to question why he was there and instead reentered the flaming room, grabbing his 16 year old body and pulling him out. The smoke had now reached me even more, making me feel lightheaded.

I looked behind me to make sure Morgan and Ryan had gotten out okay. I didn't see them, but thought I could hear someone calling my name somewhere. I made the decision to ignore it and continued to struggle as I pulled him along. A board fell from somewhere, missing the two of us by a good 3 feet. I cursed my height and weight and continued to pull on him.

"Lexi!" the voice yelled again, and it was more recognizable. It was so familiar, like I had heard it in a past life. I looked around, and sighed in relief when I saw who it was.

Gove.

I hurriedly handed him the boy. "Get him out," I ordered, and he hesitated before picking up where I had left out. We bumpily hurried down the stairs, and I felt fire strike my arm. I let out a shriek, hitting it with my hand so many times it finally went out. We reached the lobby of Desert Palm, where the fire was more controlled. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Russell and everybody, but felt my heart break as Greg tried his hardest to push past Nick and Finn, who were both restraining him.

And as stumbled out into a fireless area of the lobby, I watched Gove pull the boy out of the building completely, the two of them seized by paramedics instantly.

The smoke was becoming lethal as I coughed rapidly, now trying to run to the door which seemed so incredibly far away. I grabbed the handle, but pulled away as the medal burned my hand. I banged onto the door, feeling unable to speak as smoke inhabited my throat.

The door flew open, and I shut my eyes instantly at the darkness of the night versus the brightness of the fire.

I had made it.

**A/N: WHAT IS GOING ON?!  
I know I told a few of you that we were told that the legal trouble at my school was over, but I lied. I got a call this afternoon that it's back, but not nearly as bad. I just want our schools basketball season back on the board**** So I edited all day today to cope. And started chapter 13 of the sequel!:)**

**This was a huge freaking chapter(in content, not length) so make sure you let me know how you felt about it by…**

**REVIEWING! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Thanks everyone.:)**


	27. A Shaking Rage

**A/N: Don't own CSI.**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

My eyes fluttered open at the sounds of the machine. I looked around at the smell of something sterile, and I realized I was in a hospital. Which confused me, because I had just been in a burning hospital.

"Hey, you're awake," Greg whispered softly, leaning forward and grabbing my hand gently. I looked over at him, his face slightly dark with the remnants of smoke tracing around some of his features. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," I replied as loudly as I could, which was still quiet. "What happened?"

"Just…a lot," he chuckled grimly, and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. "It's all over, Lexi."

"How?" I asked in disbelief, and he took a deep breath.

"Should I really tell you?" he asked wearily, and I nodded, motioning for him to talk.

"Dwayne, or Diddy Callums, was sent to go set the hospital on fire in one last attempt to kill Sara," he began, running a hand through his hair. "But he was also sent to kidnap both Monroe girls and stick them in the fire, as a form of revenge on their father, who have now figured ended up owning Malcolm a lot of money before he was sent to prison."

"After you sent Hodges and I out, and broke open the door for Morgan and Ryan, you found Diddy. While it was honorable and considerate of you to try and save him from the fire, it was pointless. He was dead, Ryan had shot him. Sorry if you didn't know, or maybe neither of them told you. But your former Supervisor, Adam Gove, went in after the firemen said they couldn't find you anywhere. When he found you, he pulled Diddy out. That's when the paramedics started working on him and…" he trailed off, his voice becoming tight. "And that's when they said they couldn't help you, and it was miracle if the smoke hadn't killed you yet."

"It didn't though," I said weakly, and he stroked my hair gently. "I'm here, everyone's safe. Right?"

"Right," he confirmed, and his other hand ran down my arm. "You probably got the worst of injuries of the fire, and Diddy was the only one who died. You have a concussion and burns on your other arm, but you're okay. Everyone's okay, Lex."

I nodded and sighed. "Where are we, if Desert Palm was on fire last time I checked?"

"We are in St. Elizabeth's, the minor hospital that's more for the outskirts of Vegas," he answered quietly, and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

"Hey, don't cry," I whispered, and he bit his lip. "Everyone's okay, Greg. It's all going to be okay, I promise."

"I know that now," he breathed, and rested his head in hands. "I didn't know that when you were inside."

"I'm fine, Greggo," I assured him, lying back in my bed. "How do we know that the gang is just going to call it quits and give up on Sara?"

"Communication with Drew Bullimer, who was apparently like third in command with them," he answered. "He said that it's all over."

"She awake yet, Greg?" a voice asked, and I looked up to see Russell and Finn standing in my doorway. I smiled and waved at the two of them. "Welcome back to Earth, Lexi."

"Yeah, how long was I out?" I laughed, watching as they sat down on the opposite side of Greg.

"13 hours," Greg replied immediately, like he'd been counting. I looked into his eyes, which no longer seemed completely hollow. "You sleep like a rock."

I chuckled and looked over at DB. "So this is how everything ends, huh?"

"Well the well-planned rain helped with putting out the fire," he stated, and Finn nodded in agreement. "Seemed like it came right at the midnight, on April 1st."

"Is it still April Fools Day?" I asked hopefully, and Finn nodded.

"Don't worry, Lexi, Henry already pulled his prank for the entire lab," she told me, and I laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"Henry?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yep," she answered, and stifled a laugh. "He sent Hodges a forged Happy Birthday card from Gil Grissom."

I let out a laugh myself, and she joined me. "I don't get the funny part here," Russell informed us, and I smiled at him.

"Hodges idolizes Grissom," I told him, and he nodded. "His birthday's in July!"

"Now that's just smart of Henry," Greg chuckled. "Send him a forged birthday card so it looks like Grissom doesn't even know his birthday."

"And it was very realistic looking, until Hodges noticed a dot above the 'I' bigger than Grissom would have written it," Henry informed us all, walking into my waiting room. "How are you, Lexi?"

"Feeling great, now," I answered, and looked over at Russell. "Though I suppose I'm fired for what I did to Drew Bullimer?"

Russell sighed and contemplated this shortly. "No, you're not. Just…don't let it happen again, okay?"

"Deal."

….

I gripped the edges of the hospital bed, my mind swarming in pain. Where were the nurses with my medication? The newly discovered third degree burns on my legs were stinging. I ground my teeth into each other, trying so hard to remain silent and not wake Greg up. The stinging continued, and I just closed my eyes, trying to ignore the growing pain.

"Lexi?" a voice asked from my doorway, and my eyelids flew open again. Morgan was standing there, looking concerned. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Get the nurse, please," I whispered, and motioned to Greg. "I don't want to wake him up, but I need freaking pain meds."

She nodded and hurried off, and the pain increased dramatically. "Miss Smith?" the nurse asked worriedly as Morgan followed her in, and I raised a hand in greeting. "What's the pain here?"

"Keep your voice down," I hissed, and pointed to Greg. "I don't need him being woken up. And it's my leg, the burns they found this morning. More pain meds, please."

She checked the clipboard at the end of my bed and read it over. "I'm sorry, Miss Smith, you were just given a fresh does of pain medication an hour ago, you can't receive any more for another 2 hours."

"What?" I said in a strained voice, and I cleared my throat.

"The only thing I can do is take the bandages off of it, air it out?" she suggested quietly, her eyes shifting to a still sleeping Greg.

"Leave it," I snapped, and leaned back in bed. The pain was becoming nearly unbearable and I fought to keep my mind off it, the nurse running off to another patient. Morgan slowly sat down next to me and across from Greg.

The pain struck through harder this time, and I let out another cry of pain. Greg jumped away, and I groaned freely, it feeling better than suppressing my pain. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, pushing my bangs out of my face.

"Can't get any more drugs," I wheezed out, and coughed violently at a tickle in my throat. "Took too many."

"You're okay," he cooed, stroking my hair even more gently, kissing my head. "It's okay, the pain will pass."

"How do you know?" I growled, and he sighed.

"I don't. But just trust me, okay?" he requested, and I nodded, closing my eyes again. "When did you get here, Morgan?"

"Ryan and I came to visit," her voice explained. "He got caught up talking to Nick in the waiting room."

"What's Nick in the waiting room for?" Greg asked, and I opened one eye, raising my eyebrow with it. "Did he come and visit while we were sleeping?"

"Oh, I think he was supposed to come and get you for some 419 in the mountains," Morgan answered, scratching the back of her head. "I think he decided against it though."

"So, how many days until I can be out of here?" I groaned, the pain kicking in again. Greg stroked the top of my forehead slowly, and I sighed in a form of content.

"Doctors said 4, they need to make sure none of your burns get infected," Greg said quietly, and I felt like screaming and crying. 4 more days in this living hell where I was to simply deal with the pain because they couldn't give me any more medication. "It'll be over before you know it, sweetie."

"I don't care," I said through gritted teeth, and Morgan looked away from the both of us. "I just want some medication. Just want this stinging to stop."

"They can't give you anymore, Lexi," Morgan spoke up, still avoiding eye contact with me. "You should probably go back to sleep."

"How are Hodges and Sara?" I asked, changing the subject. "Did they continue their recovery here?"

"They let Sara out," Greg said with a smile. "And Hodges is being discharged today."

"Lucky bastards," I sighed, and Greg laughed, patting my hand. "I'm hungry."

Morgan checked her watch, and impatiently looked out the door. "Well, Ryan and I did bring you guys Chinese, figured that hospital food must suck."

"Oh, it does," I promised her, and she stood up. "Did you get eggrolls?"

"I didn't forget," she said with a grin, before walking down the hallway to find Ryan.

"So, has Gove been by yet?" I asked Greg, knowing I needed to thank him.

"Uh, no," Greg said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Gove is currently avoiding me."

"You've been talking to him?" I asked, surprised.

"Talking to him? Uh, no, I've been bothering him." He said, and intertwined our fingers. "I knew you'd want to see how he felt and everything."

"You're sweet," I whispered, and he smiled. I felt around my neck, and when I didn't feel my necklace, I panicked. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Greg asked offhandedly, looking at the floor.

"My necklace," I reminded him, and then realized I wasn't wearing Nana Olaf's ring. "Where's all my stuff? I was wearing it when I went in there."

"The ring is fine," he promised me, and pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket, handing it to me. The ring did indeed look okay, minus a few scratches. "But the necklace didn't make it."

Tears stung my eyes at the lack of jewelry that he had spent so much money on. I pursed my lips and pulled the ring out of the bag, slipping it onto my finger. "How did the necklace not make it?"

"Well, it actually explains your burns here," he said, and ran a finger across the L shaped burn underneath my collar bones. "But it fell off of you, and when they did find it, it was just…ruined."

"Dammit," I hissed, and he played with the ends of my hair. "I loved that necklace. It was a damn good present."

"It's okay, Lex," he said, and his eyes wandered to the burn mark again. "You're okay, and that's all that matters."

"To you," I mumbled, and he leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "That doesn't always make things better, Greg."

"It's worth a try, right?" he whispered, and I blushed furiously.

"I love you." I told him seriously, and he grinned.

"I love you too, Lexi."

"I have Chinese!" Ryan announced, entering the room with a bag of takeout. "Just for you, dearest Lex!"

"Gee, thanks," I laughed, and he and Morgan took their seats next to me on the other side of the bed. "Food will definitely take away the pain."

"I'm glad you see it my way," he said with a grin, and I rolled my eyes as he took out the contents of the bag. "I have a large Mountain Dew with 3 eggrolls and noodles for Lexi."

He handed me the large amount of food, and I laughed at my soda. "You still remembered, after all this time?"

"Always!" he exclaimed, and handed Morgan her food. "Greg, my man, I had to call Nick and ask him. He says you only eat noodles?"

Greg nodded, gladly accepting the plastic container full of noodles. "That is true," he admitted, and Ryan tore open the second bag, which was clearly just for him.

"Um, Ry?" I asked, giggling at the 8 eggrolls and huge container of noodles.

"Hmm?" he asked through a mouth full of noodle.

"You do realize that you're going to end up a fat man, right?" I laughed, and he shrugged.

"If being fat means I can still eat as much food as I want, I'm good."

And as I sat around my hospital room with my many friends, the pain in my leg began to subside completely.

…

"Feeling well this morning, Miss Smith?" Dr. Swayne asked as he entered my room, flipping the clipboard up at the end of my bed.

"I get to go home, of course I'm feeling well," I replied, looking up over my book. "How come Greg wasn't here this morning?"

"Oh, he said he had to get your house cleaned up," he chuckled, and set the clipboard back down. "Poor guy came all the way here to tell you, but you were asleep."

"Oh," I answered dully, slightly disappointed he wasn't there. "How many more hours till I can high tail it out of here?"

"I told Mr. Sanders to be here at noon for you," he said, and checked his watch. "Just another hour, Miss Smith. Think you can hang on til then?"

"Possibly," I joked, and pursed my lips. "Do you know if an Adam Gove may have stopped by while I was asleep?"

"Oh, he called about an hour or so ago. I thought Nurse Elaine said she'd get you the message," he muttered, and picked the clipboard up once again, rechecking it and flipping through papers. "Yes, he said he was, and I quote, 'going back to the beach, and he'd see you later'."

I frowned. "Thanks, Dr. Swayne. Today's the 15th, right?"

"Yes, Miss Smith. I have to go check on another patient, make sure you catch me before you leave," he told me, and I gave a small smile to him before nodding. In the back of my mind, possibilities were screaming at me. I put them aside and returned to my book.

About an hour later, Greg rushed into my room, looking out of breath and relieved. "You're not late if that's why you're running around."

He tilted his head to the side before shrugging and sitting next to me. "Did someone tell you why I wasn't here? I didn't want to freak you out, but-"

"I was asleep when you got here, I understand," I promised, and placed a hand on top of his. "You got my clothes, right?"

"Yes, he did," my nurse said, walking in and handing me the bag. "I like the sweats."

I raised an eyebrow at Greg, because he knew I loved my sweats. He shrugged. "You like them, right?"

"You know me all too well," I smiled, and he stepped out of the room so I could get dressed. As I slipped my sweats on, the nurse looked over at me.

"You feeling well?" she asked nervously, and I nodded.

"Craving some ice cream, but I'm fine," I laughed, and she nodded slowly. "Why?"

"You're just pale," she said, and handed me a mirror. Looking at my reflection, same old disheveled hair and all, she was right. My face did look pale.

"Hey, you ready to go?" Greg asked, reentering the room. I nodded and picked up my bag, walking stiffly because the burns on my legs still ached slightly.

"Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Mind stopping by the drug store on the way home?"

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, and I could feel my heart thumping loudly. "Yeah," he said slowly, scratching the back of his head. "Sure."

….I threw the negative test in the trash, relief flushing over me. I knew we had to be more careful, but I was also worried. Because say I _had _been pregnant. The smoke inhalation could have killed the fetus.

I opened the bathroom door and collapsed into bed, ignoring Greg's expectant look. "What was the all about?" he asked, rolling into the comfortable bed himself.

"What was what all about?" I asked, hoping he'd buy my dumb act.

"I know you bought a pregnancy test," he said quietly in my ear, and I bit my lip. "I just wanted to know what it said is all, Lexi."

"I'm not pregnant, Greg," I whispered, hardly hearing my own voice. He sighed in relief and rolled me over so I was facing him. "That make you happy?"

"Very." He said seriously, and closed the small gap between us. As sore as I was, I could learn to deal with it.

…

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Russell asked as I walked into the locker room, spinning the key ring on my finger. "Ready to get back to work?"

"I was thoroughly bored at my house, of course I'm ready to get back to work," I chuckled, and ran a hand through my hair. "How've things been without me?"

"Oh, you know, just as chaotic," he laughed heartily, and I smiled as I zipped my vest up. "Court date for Horace Malcolm is this Saturday."

"What a stupid name for a gangbanger," I said, shaking my head and sticking my gun in it's holster securely. "Horace."

"Doesn't exactly fit the persona well, does it?" he agreed, shutting his locker door. I nodded and shut my own door, walking out of the locker room.

"Lexi!" a voice called, and I turned around to see Henry hurrying towards me. "How are you?"

"Great, Henry…what's going on?" I asked, looking around making sure nothing was too out of the ordinary. "Did some get hurt?"

"No," he promised, and held up two ties. "Black or dark blue?"

"Why are you asking me this?" I asked, but pointed to the black one. I gasped. "Are you going on a date with a certain Mandy?"

"Maybe," he said happily, balancing on the balls of his feet. "Okay, so it's a double date with Hodges and Stacy. But it's still a date."

"You're right," I assured him, patting his shoulder. "But uh, who is this Stacy girl? Are her and Hodges an item now or something?"

Henry looked away. "Gotta go."

And with that, he quickly walked back to the tox lab. I laughed and shook my head before heading towards the break room in search for Finn, who I had been assigned this case with. "I've been looking for you!"

I looking behind me, and sure enough, she was standing there with her hands on her hips. "I can say the same," I replied, and followed her as we both headed for the parking garage now. "Where were you? That's Trace, and I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to be meddling around in there."

"I was leaving Hodges a message for Judy, that's all," she said, putting her hands up. "Some mysterious woman called and asked for him, wouldn't give a name."

I beamed. "I bet it was this Stacy woman he's going on a double date with Henry and Many on. How romantic."

"Can't beat you and Greg," she sighed, and I raised an eyebrow. "What? You guys are cute together."

"Are we?" I sighed happily, and she nodded, opening the drivers side door to the Denali. "He is too good to me, Finn."

"You want to find a guy like that for me?" she groaned sadly, backing out of the parking garage. "I would really kill for someone like that."

"Oh, but aren't you and Moreno a couple?" I asked, confused.

"Uh, no," she said, laughing nervously. I nodded, and she looked over at me. "You look tired."

"Didn't sleep well," I said lamely, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"Oh, I wonder why," she said sarcastically, and I shrunk down in the seat. "You and Greg remind me of rabbits."

"What the hell?" I cried, my eyes wide and looking over at her in surprise from her statement. "We are nowhere near an even comparison to rabbits!"

"Always having sex," she reminded me, and I covered my eyes with my hands. "Don't deny it."

"We are not always having sex!" I exclaimed in frustration, and she pulled to a stop at our scene. She turned the car off and looked over at me.

"You so sure about that?"

"Yes, I am plenty sure!" I defended, and she nodded slowly. "Geez."

"Liar," she whispered, jumping out of the car before I could protest.

**A/N: So, I have had really mixed feelings about this chapter. I don't really know how I feel about Lexi and Greg, and about everything being over…just seems way too real for me.**

**ONE CHAPTER LEFT.**

**IT ALL ENDS NEXT CHAPTER.**

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	28. What Crashes Must Burn

**A/N: Don't own CSI.(:**

**Yayy, we hit 70 reviews! I was going to make everyone wait until Monday, but then I looked at my schedule and realized that I'm going to have a lot of spare time next week and I want to use that to work on the sequel! Which, in fact, will be up probably tomorrow or Monday. So I will see you all then.**

**Just promise that ALL OF YOU- AND I MEAN ALL 21 FOLLOWERS- drop me a review in honor of the last chapter**** Please.**

Listening intensely to the news on my night off, I looked up at Greg. I was leaning against his chest as we watched the news lady begin her segment about Malcolm's trial.

"And in other news, the man who burned down our very own Desert Palm hospital's been found guilty of all charges," she said in her broadcaster voice. "Mr. Horace Malcolm, found guilty on 7 counts of attempted murder, murder, drunk in public, illegal drug possession as well as illegal possession of a semi-automatic weapon and arson."

I smiled to myself and looked back at Greg, who was still listening. "Mr. Malcolm looks at 25 to life in prison, and his sentencing is a month away. Tonight, a young woman…" she said, and Greg turned the volume down as she changed subjects.

"Didn't that turn out well?" he whispered, kissing the top of my nose and flipping me so I was underneath him and his bare chest.

"Uh-huh," I said shakily, and he chuckled. "Can't you put a shirt on? Just for me?"

"Why, so you can take it off again?" he said suggestively, holding my wrists above my head. He bent down and kissed my neck, forcing a shudder out of me. "I love you, Lex."

"Yeah," I laughed, and he ran his hands back down my arms.

"I once had a CSI ask me if I'd ever been tied up," he said quietly in my ear, his hands pushing me down on the couch. "She thought I was more of the hair pulling type."

I laughed and he sealed the gap between us. The fight for dominance was apparent, and just as he was slipping his hands up my shirt, our doorbell rang. I pulled away from him, and he clenched his jaw, rolling off of me. "Every time, huh?"

"Yes," he agreed, and headed up the stairs in clear search for a shirt and some pants. I didn't really care as I walked to the door in my sweats and t-shirt, and opened it.

"You're Lexi Smith?" a skinny guy asked me, and I immediately recognized him. I took a step away, backing up from the door.

"You just…stay there," I said nervously, just as Greg came down the stairs. "Don't move."

"I just want to talk," he tried, but Greg came up behind me. "Or not, because he's gonna either slam the door in my face or call the cops."

"Drew Bullimer…have to say, we weren't expecting you," Greg said quietly, running a hand through his hair. The guys pursed his lips and stifled a laugh. "What's so funny?"

"Yeah, I already know you guys weren't expecting me," he said, a smile playing on his face. "Bout to get busy on your couch and all."

"Were you peeping?" I snapped, and Greg placed his hand on my waist.

Drew looked down at the ground and scratched the back of his head. "I was more or less looking to see if you were home."

"Yeah, that's a really creepy way of doing it," Greg said wearily, and I crossed my arms. "Aren't you supposed to be in prison?"

"I had a good lawyer," he said simply, and I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious, yo. Diddy was the one who gone and shot my brother in the head."

"Yeah, okay," I mumbled, and Greg pulled me backwards slightly. "What did you need to talk about?"

"I just wanted to thank you," he said, looking away from me. "For shaking some sense into me. Literally."

"I guess you're welcome," I said, clapping my hands together. "Now get off my porch."

Greg chuckled. "Lex, come on. He was thanking you."

"And I don't trust gangbangers," I sneered, and shut the door in his face. I felt somewhat guilty afterwards, but turned and looked at Greg. "That wasn't mean, that was honest."

"Yeah, okay," he said, looping his arms around my waist. "Pretty creepy that he was watching and all."

"I agree," I said, and reached back to pull the shades down in the window. "How bout we just continue picking up where we left off?"

"Not on the couch," he laughed, and held my wrists again. "You're awesome, Lex."

"I love you too," I whispered in his ear, letting my instincts take over and running my lips over his jaw line. He stopped me by pinning my against the wall and holding my wrists above my head again. "Why do you always have to be the dominate one?"

"Because I just am," he sighed, and for the second time that night, the gap between us evaporated.

…

"…No, Mrs. Sanders, I don't really know," I said awkwardly into the phone, using one hand to wrap Greg's birthday present up. "He had to pull a double, I came home to get the house ready."

"Did my package arrive?" she asked worriedly. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, Mrs. Sanders, I have it wrapped and everything," I promised her. "Didn't even look inside. But please tell me it's not baby clothes again."

"It's not," she assured me with a chuckle. "Gregory was very embarrassed by that last present. He called and scolded me about it, too."

I held the phone in between my neck and my shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't worry, I put them somewhere so when we do have kids we can have those."

"Aren't you just the sweetest thing?" she cooed, and I thought back to when she tried to get me out of Greg's life a few months back. "So what's the plan for the birthday party?"

"Oh, there's not really a party," I explained quietly, knowing that would probably piss her off or something. "Greg and I are going to the lake together."

"That's it?" she asked, and I set the newly wrapped present next to the one from his mom. "What's going on at the lake?"

I began to pick up the remnants from wrapping everything. "We're jumping off a cliff," I said distractedly, and she gasped on the other end. I wanted to smack myself for saying that. "I mean, it's a really small cliff. Like the height of a diving board."

"Be careful," she said hoarsely, before hanging up on me. I sighed and grabbed the two boxes, walking down the staircase and nearly running into Greg.

"Presents?" he asked curiously, examining them. "I told you not to get my anything."

"One's from your mother, Greg, calm down," I laughed, handing him the one from Mrs. Sanders. "And she now officially hates me."

"Why now?" he asked with a sigh, already unwrapping the present. The both of us walked down the staircase in synchronization, and he gave me a once-over.

"I told her we were jumping off a cliff," I said simply, and he didn't really reply besides a nod. "Then I had to cover and say it was the height of a diving board."

"Nice," he noted, and tugged on my cover up I was wearing. "You got a swimming suit underneath here?"

"A bikini, yes," I mumbled, still feeling slightly insecure about it.

"Can't wait to see that," he said, rubbing his hands together. I shot him a dirty look, and he raised his eyebrows at me. "What? I've already seen you naked."

"Just shut up," I grumbled, and looked down at his unwrapped but still shut brown package. "You gonna open that?"

"You gonna stop being moody?" he sighed, and I rolled my eyes as I stormed past him on the staircase, heading for the kitchen. "Oh, hey, what do you know. Mom got me some Blue Hawaiian."

"Nice," I mused. He shook the present from me by his ear, as if to get a clue for what it was. "Open it."

"And you're happy again," he breathed, and I ignored his comment. He opened it up, and carefully pulled out the single framed photo. I smiled proudly at it, knowing I'd went through hell trying to find it. He and Nana Olaf, last Thanksgiving. I'd forgotten who had taken it, and after countless emails between Bree and I, I finally got my hands on it. "You are always going to be the badass present giver."

"I know it doesn't amount to my necklace, or Nana Olaf's ring," I said guiltily, watching his face carefully. "But you can't buy jewelry for guys. So I figured this would do."

"You are amazing," he uttered, kissing my forehead. "Thank you so much, Lexi. It's perfect."

"Glad you like it," I said as I pecked his cheek. "Because I really want to go jump off that cliff today."

…

"You sure you're up to this?" he double checked, and I slipped my cover up off.

"Positive, Greg. Besides, we promised each other we'd do this in six months."

"Okay," he sighed, and reached out to grab my hand. "You know, part of this does worry me. Nick and Sara had a case back when I was in the lab. Some couple died jumping off a cliff in this lake."

"I'm sure," I said happily, looking down at the blue water below us. "You ready?"

"On three," he said nervously. "One…Two-"

"THREE!" I shouted, jumping and dragging him with me.

The feeling of jumping off that cliff was amazing. The adrenaline pumped through my veins as we continued downwards, and time seemed to freeze for a moment. Like we were suspended in mid-air for an entire year. Like nothing could stop us, and we were going to hit the water no matter what. And as that was scientifically true, there would be no defying gravity, I couldn't help but think that applied to Greg and I, as a couple. Because we were going to stay together, even if something happened and one of got shifted to day or swing, or even if one of us got fired. Thinking about that, and the adrenaline flowing through my body made my worry of the month seem irrelevant. Part of me wanted to hit myself for not learning the lesson the first time, and another part of myself wanted to just live in the moment and roll with the punches. But would the punches be too much for me to handle? Was I really cut out for what I was about to take on? I didn't know, and worry washed away for a split second as the body of water engulfed Greg and I both, pulling us into the depths of the lake momentarily.

I swam upwards, taking a deep breath as I reached the surface. Greg appeared next to me a minute later, his hair sporadically shaped in all different directions. I laughed and leaned forward, making it all go in one area.

"You jumped before I said three," he said, swallowing and breathing hard. I laughed and fell into his chest, relying on him to keep us both afloat. "That was fun."

"And we're both alive," I reminded him, and he nodded in agreeance. "That's also equally important."

"Yeah, I guess," he chuckled and let go of me, swimming to shore. "You coming?"

"Yeah!" I called, swimming after him.

When we both washed onto shore, I just laid in the sand for a moment, thinking about everything. "Hey, you're hair's darker when it's wet," he commented, touching the ends of it. "More of a dirty blonde."

"And yours is brown," I panted, still trying to regain breath. "You jump off this cliff more than once?"

"This is my second time," he admitted, and I smiled, my chest rapidly going up and down. "You okay?"

"Just out breath," I assured him, and he sat up, looking down on me and raising a single eyebrow. "I'm fine."

"So, when do I get my real birthday present?" he whispered, leaning over and resting his head on his hand. I smirked and shrugged.

"Assumingly tonight, honey," I informed him, and he frowned. "No, we are not doing that on a beach!"

"It's all romantic though," he mumbled, and I laughed at him, running a hand down his arms. "Stop teasing me."

"Is that what you call this?" I asked innocently, and he playfully tackled me, kissing my cheek softly. "Hey, be gentle."

"Why?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "We've never been gentle before."

I smiled at him, resting both my hands on the side of his cheeks and rubbing my thumb over them. "Save it for tonight." I answered, and he seemed to believe me.

"Finn was right, we _are_ like rabbits," he muttered, and I laughed.

"She told you that too?" I asked in disbelief, and he nodded. "Are we?"

"If we are, it's my male hormones. Sorry." He apologized, and just then, he attacked me, tickling me everywhere. I, of course, went into a laughing spasm as I squirmed under him, trying to break free. "It'd help if you stopped moving."

"Never!" I yelped through laughter, and couldn't help but continue my rapid defensive movements. "Greg…please…"

"Fine," he grumbled, and kissed my cheek one last time before rolling off of me. "Looks like you've ate more, thanks." I frowned and glanced at my stomach. What was usually flat had a small bump, and I looked away from him, a tear rolling down my face. I couldn't even figure out why I was crying, I just couldn't stop though. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, sweetie."

He wrapped his arms around me tightly, and I continued to cry. "It's…not…y-you're fault.," I sobbed, and he stroked my hair. "I-I've been s-such a w-wreck lately."

"It's okay, Lexi," he whispered into my hair, and I wiped away my tears, the overwhelming emotion now fading. "I shouldn't have said that, I just meant that you looked like you were the average weight instead of being so tiny."

I nodded into his shoulder, the salt from my tears and the salt from the water on him combining. "Way to go Sanders, you made her cry already." A familiar voice said from behind us, and we both turned around. Hodges was standing there, crossing his arms.

"What the hell, Hodges?" Greg snapped, I hurriedly wiped away my tears. "Stalking us or something?"

"I'm here on a date, actually," he said coolly. I examined the fact that was indeed wearing beach shorts and short-sleeved shirt. "With my girlfriend."

"Oh yeah?" Greg shot back, rubbing my back subconsciously. "Where is she then?"

"David!" a voice called on cue, and we both looked to our right, where a woman with long red hair and wild green eyes was running towards us with a picnic basket in her hands. "I found it!"

She stopped next to him, handing him the basket. She was about his height, and very well proportioned. How did Hodges land her?

"Lexi, Greg, this is my girlfriend, Stacy," Hodges introduced, and she leaned down to shake our hands. "We've been going since about February."

"Don't worry, I remember the night Greg came home wasted and Nick said you met her," I laughed, and Greg blushed. "It's really nice to meet you, Stacy. It's good to hear Hodges has a girlfriend."

Greg was silent, and I watched as he shot Hodges a look so quickly I hardly caught it. Hodges shrugged in response, and they then acted as if nothing had happened. "Well, this has become sufficiently awkward," Greg sighed, standing up and pulling me with him. "We're gonna get out of here, go home and get some rest before work tonight."

"Yeah, happy birthday, Sanders!" Hodges called, and Greg pulled me along as we walked back up the hill towards the Denali.

"She's pretty," I noted as we got in the car. "Way out of his league, but pretty."

"So was Wendy," Greg mumbled as he started the car, and I sent him a questioning glance. "She was the DNA tech a few years back, they were together. Kind of. I don't really know actually."

"Oh," I said quietly, and ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry for kind of having a meltdown back there, Greg."

"It's fine, Lex," he promised, and patted my hand. "I shouldn't have said you gained weight. Because honestly, you still look hot."

"Your manly thoughts scar my brain!" I cried jokingly, rubbing my forehead. "Enough!"

…

I stumbled out of the bathroom, feeling out of breath and shaky. The emotions that were washing over me crashed into my body, I fell onto our bed.

I didn't want to ever go back in that bathroom, and I never wanted to look at that pregnancy test again. I felt tears prickle my eyes in temptation to succumb to my hormones. I fell into their trap, erupting in violent sobs as I stained the pillow with tears. I was so stupid, I had been so dumb to have unprotected sex _several _times. And especially after having my pregnancy scare last time, I should have known better. I wanted to stop crying, to not ruin Greg's birthday. Images of him breaking up with me or kicking me out ran through my mind, and I sobbed even harder. I had no family, no support. I could move back to Los Angeles, be with Marigold. She would probably help me out, but only if I came home begging on my knees.

The door clicked open slowly, and I didn't even bother to stop my tears. Greg's footsteps were audible as he sat down next to me on the bed, rubbing my back wordlessly. "What's wrong, Lex?" he whispered, and I cried even harder. "Come on, just tell me."

"Can't!" I managed to push out of my throat, and I knew the overwhelming feeling was becoming far too much for me. "Such an idiot!"

"No, you're not," he said quietly, and laid down next to me. "I promise, you're not an idiot."

"So stupid of me," I sniffled, the tears stopping momentarily. "Should h-have known, after l-last time." He froze, his face losing color. My crying resumed, somewhere in my brain screaming that this was it, that I was going to have to pack my bags and get the hell out of there.

"What are you talking about, Lex?" he breathed, and I couldn't answer him. Everything around was crashing onto my body, their oceanic waves of fear nearly suffocating me. "Lex?"

"Go see!" I said from where I was getting a headache from all of my tears. "I ruined everything!"

He got off the bed slowly, walking into the bathroom. It hurt my heart how he already knew what I was talking about, and I stopped my sobbing for a brief moment, listening for his reaction.

"You're pregnant?" he whispered into the air, no one but myself and him hearing the words.

I nodded, flipping over and staring at the ceiling, my red and puffy eyes willing me to get up and pack my things. But I felt trapped to the bed, a certain pressure keeping me there. I nodded again, as if really admitting this to myself more than him. "I told you I ruined everything."

My hoarse voice felt like it was echoing throughout the room, as if to remind him and myself of what I was saying. "You didn't ruin everything." He finally said, and I looked over to where he was standing by the bathroom counter still.

"I did!" I cried, my sobs picking up again. "I've screwed everything up between us! This is all my fault, Greg, I'm so sorry."

He came and stood by the bed, just staring at me. "My baby's in there?"

He pointed to my stomach, and I nodded. "This is all my fault…" I moaned, rubbing away the tears that had clouded my vision partially.

"Lexi," he said, his voice piercing through my heart. I waited for it. For the _'get your stuff and get the hell out of my house' _or the _'you cheated on me, there's no way that's my baby'._ But they never came. "I love you."

Part of my heart mended with those three words, and I blinked. "What?"

"I love you," he repeated, sitting on the bed next to me. "It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry." He scooted over to me, pulling me up and settling me in his arms. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he pleaded, and I allowed myself to have another sob, and he held me tightly. I pulled my knees up to my face, and for that moment, I had never felt more unsure if being in Greg's arms would last forever. "Remember when we first discussed having sex?"

"Yeah," I said hoarsely. "You were in the hospital."

"I said that it took two to tango," he chuckled, and I nodded. "It's just as much my fault as it is yours."

"I know you're going to want me to go," I mumbled, something inside me engraining the moment into my head. _This will be your last time with Greg. Get over it, Lexi. You'll leave Vegas like you San Diego and Phoenix. You'll learn to move on. _

But moving on didn't seem to be something I could do this time.

And Greg seemed to feel the same way.

"No." he said firmly. "I don't want you to leave, Lexi. Why would you ever think that?"

He seemed to be in disbelief as he said the last part, and I shrugged. "You have a life, Greg. Friends and family, all of whom love and support you. Your life was and would be picture perfect without me."

He kissed the top of my forehead, taking a deep breath. "I would not be able to live with myself everyday knowing I had let you slip though my fingers," he told me quietly, and I felt my breathing slow. "You're staying. You and this blessing."

"You really think it's a blessing?" My words seemed like confirmation for myself. I wouldn't screw up, I would keep this baby. I would raise it through hell and high water.

"Of course," he assured me, kissing me again. "I love you so, _so _much, Lexi. And I'm going to love this baby just as much, I know it."

I gave him a watery smile before collapsing into tears yet again, this time out of relief and happiness. "I love you too," I said tearfully, and he rubbed my back slowly. "I don't think you know how relived I am."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised as the sun set outside, leaving us in darkness. "I'm not leaving, Lexi. I'm staying right here, all three of us are."

I nodded, my tears finally drying up and heart beginning to mend. "I just…I just wanted to do everything correctly."

"What _is _the correct way, Lex?" he asked me, his voice like a knife through the darkness of the room and current situation. "I know you wanted to get married first, and we can if you still want to."

"I'm not getting married because I'm pregnant," I said shakily, my nerves finally reaching a calm moment. "No, not happening."

"Okay, that's fine too," he told me, and I felt like everything was returning to normal, even if the current situation wasn't. "I'll be here either way."

"I honestly think you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," I said, and he wiped away a stray tear on my face. "You just always know what to do."

"No, I don't," he chuckled. "But I do know what's right, and I usually just try to stick to that."

"Our baby is going to be beautiful," I stated, and he kissed the side of my head. "Boy or girl."

"I hope it's a boy," he said to himself, and I laughed for the first time that night. "But I would love a little girl, she'd look just like you."

"If it's a girl, I think you'll spoil her too much," I said with a grin, and he nodded. "You know that."

"I probably will," he admitted, and I sighed out of feeling complete in the moment. "Lex?"

"Hmm?" I hummed, looking at him now.

He kissed my nose. "This has honestly been the best birthday ever."

**A/N: No, I'm not crying. I swear, I'm not.**

**Who the hell am I even kidding, I'm sobbing like an idiot over here. **

**So, welcome to the end. I can't believe I'm really here right now, after writing what I think may have been one of the most powerful chapters yet. Not bragging, but it was seriously some powerful stuff just for me alone to write. I really hoped you all have enjoyed this chapter as well as The Newbie altogether. **

**I understand I more or less just threw Drew Bullimer in the mix at the beginning of this chapter, and I'm sorry for that. I just needed to tie up some loose ends, and I felt like I was doing that by having him swing by momentarily.**

**I cannot believe we're done. It's over, it's all finished. **

**Well, I'm definitely posting a sequel, as I've previously mentioned. It will be called The Ever After and will be out tomorrow or the next day. **

**And a huge thing: As of chapter 27, we have had 4,654 views. That made me so happy**

**I want to send a huge shout out to all of my outstanding reviewers and followers, thank you all so much: **_**Buzzkill15, Carley Idonea, Crimesolver, Gryffindor4eva, Nevergonnafitin, NinaBlossom, RandomChanneh67, Thephoenix1996, ToxicSoap04, ZahraAhmedxx, Zylia Gregorvich, bestbuy25, clarinetgirl628, graciegirl000, hellraiserphoenix, katyplops, lotzalove, matt-hardy-lover-101, smuffly, surfsexy, **_and _**sweetortonlover86. **_

**The biggest shout out really needs to go to smuffly and lotzalove, who were the best reviewers I have ever had. See you at the sequel?:)**

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**Thanks so much everyone, you are fantastic.:)**

**Much Love,**

**InsaneOnTheInside.**


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